Escaping Reality
by Kayla Tsukino
Summary: 26-year-old Tsukino Kayla is a moderon-day woman living in the twenty-first centery. When she tries to flea from an abusive situation she gets a chance of a lifetime, the ability to start over. Only its 1912, instead of 2010. ill she change her life?
1. An Escape

Disclaimer I don't own Titanic. I do own the plot, and my character Kayla. Please ask before taking her.

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A/n: This is a somewhat AU from what I normally write. However, I need to put some thoughts into words. Well Maybe. We'll just see where this chapter takes me.

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Warning: This story may be dark, a bit darker then what I normally write, but then again maybe not. I have yet to decide. The usual themes will be present. Consider this your warning.

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Chapter 1

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Brown eyes shot open, as the owner of said eyes scrambled out of the bed. She had been sleeping a majority of the day a habit she adopted as of late. Being out of work, and being up all night due to issues of anxiety tended to turn a person around. She hardly ever got any sleep, and when she did, it was when he wasn't home. Four days a week.

There may have been a time several years ago when the opposite may have rung true. When she felt in love and happy, but now everything had changed. No longer clouded by anti-depresents she could see clearly the man she moved in with, the one who attempted to control her every move. The one who from time to time actually accomplished this task. The one person who allowed alcohol to control his every move. Why had she allowed herself to fall into this rut?

She would see him off and climb into bed sleep a majority of the day, and when she finally woke up she'd start her day. Unlike most women she never tended to the mountain of housework that required her attention, despite the fact he wished it to be so. He seemed to want a lot from her, but insisted she wasn't an un-paid servant. How many times had she heard 'I would love to come home to a clean house,' and have it not be so, or 'And come home and have to do the cleaning' to which he never did any of.

Sure on a good day she could get him to do dishes. Pile up laundry to be completed, but never did he do anything that helped her. Instead he'd find some way to buy her love, by buying things right and left. Spending money like it was going out of style, only to turn around and complain later on he had little, that he didn't have enough. Drinking became his constant, yet she stayed. Despite everything she'd been through, she stayed with him. Even when she would get hit, she stayed.

Her closest friends worried about her non-stop. She kept in touch day in and day out through phone calls and text messages, but sometimes it didn't feel like enough. At least not to those who did care about her. Yet she had to get from one day to the next.

After testing her blood sugar, the brown haired-brown-eyed woman grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and a granola bar from the pantry before sitting in front of her laptop. The same thing she had been doing for the past, what was it, year and a half? She'd lost track of time some time ago.

After losing her job at the local Pizza Hut, Kayla Tsukino was rarely seen out of her apartment. She never went further than the laundry mat, and would always return to her apartment. None of her neighbors seemed to take notice of her, or what she did or didn't do with her life. Half of them hardly said two words to her. So what did it matter if she lived or died? At least that's how she felt most of the time. She just kept going knowing that suicide would never solve anything. She doubted leaving would either based on how she felt about people. Putting complete trust in someone wasn't easy for her, and whenever she felt she could let her guard down she got hurt.

Kayla was tired of all of it. She was unhappy and cried almost all of the time. But, still she did what she felt best, and hung out either in bed or on the couch under a blanket. She didn't wish to provoke or anger him any more then need be, nor did she want to constantly have to do things alone. However, getting him to do anything with her was like literally pulling his arm. She couldn't keep it up, so if she got out once a week that was something. More then she did ever since he had cost her, her job.

Kayla reached up as her phone rang. Picking it up she knew who would be on the other end. George, the man she had been living with, the man, when drunk, caused tears and pain. The one who her friends wished her to leave, but she refused each time. "Hey…" she answered.

"I'm on my way home." He replied. The same reply she had come to expect ever since he started calling her. Letting her know about how much more quiet would remain before entering her life and filling it with the sounds of the t.v. and him drinking himself into nothing. Today proving to be no different. He had barely gotten home half an hour after the phone call, already into the beer. Kayla knew to avoid him as much as possible. So like every other night, she planted herself on the couch hoping not to stir up any trouble.

However, this only lasted close to an hour. "Do you know what you have in mind for dinner, if anything at all?" The question was one she asked every night, at almost the same time. It was often responded in a verity of ways.

George didn't even cast her a second glance taking a drink from the coke bottle that contained his beer before he growled, giving her an irate tone. "It's too early."

She should just keep quiet and ignore him at this point, but usually she didn't. "But, honey its much later then you think." Normally a comment such of this would result in hours of back and forth leaving Kayla in tears and frustrated. Tonight being no exception.

"I remember we wouldn't even think about dinner until ten."

"You know I can't do that anymore." Kayla insisted the argument heating up.

A hand backhanded Kayla, causing her to retaliate from the slap. Normally George only did this when she would try and take the beer from his grip, but this time, he had done it after going back and forth with her over the same issue. Kayla was almost afraid to cook a meal for herself. She knew how the result would end up. Instead she bolted for their bedroom and started putting everything she owned into bags. George naturally was hot on her heals ripping the things out just as quickly as she put them in. Another routine that happened when he had been drinking. But, she didn't give up. She kept arguing and trying to pack some things to take with her when she ran off. However, she never did make it very far when this thought occurred to her. Usually it would happen late at night, too late to catch a bus. Tonight again being no exception to this theory. In her state of mind however, running was the only thing on her mind, and she would do so at any cost. At least that's what she told herself each time she begun the process.

He at some point had stopped using words, resulting in a lot of shoving, hair pulling, anything to keep her from running. Kayla in turn received some bruises, and had been knocked around quite a bit, leaving her physically shaken ready to dissolve into a ball of sobs at any given moment. She couldn't keep this up, but somehow she did day after day. How she didn't even know, but after a while stopped trying to figure it out.

Shoving him one last time, Kayla bought herself some time and took it as a chance to flea. Hurriedly she packed a few days worth of clothes, her laptop, and all important things that went with it. Shoving it on the back of her wheelchair along with a few personal effects and her "purse" she left the apartment to parts unknown. She didn't know where she was going, she never did. She just felt she had to run. She had enough money to hop a bus but, once she was on the bus, she didn't know where she would go. Perhaps take it to the beach and duck into one of the sea-side hotels. She probably couldn't afford a night, but she aimed to try at least. Anything was better then what alternative she had which was staying where her life continued to be at risk. Another option was she could have called the police, but it would only result in someone being locked up, and fear of it being her stopped her dead in her tracks. She had done her fair share of hitting, punching, kicking and screaming to last a lifetime. Personally she didn't want anymore.

It hadn't taken long for him to recover, and when he realized she'd gone, he took off after her. She for her part hadn't made it very far, but she had reached the outer edges of her complex. Instead of heading tward Rigewood she went in the direction of Nova. But, she no sooner made the turn when someone stopped her in her tracks. Kayla reached down locking her breaks, as George tried to get her to come back, going as far as taking things that weren't physically strapped to her person. In the process banging Kayla around a bit in the chair. However, George had something different happen this time. Something completely unexpected. An auduance of people watching him attack Kayla taking her things literally right off of her.

Kayla had become numb to it all. Nothing mattered much to her. She would be drug back. The argument would continue until George finally sat still long enough and passed out. Only to have the cycle either repeat in a day, or four. One never knew. Keeping him active and busy was the only salvation she had. Four days a week where he couldn't wake up and drink. But, would that be enough? How long could she let this cycle continue before she got up and left. Actually left, none of the running without a plan or place to go. No one knew this, not even Kayla.

The only other thing that Kayla could feel amidst her tortured mind and numbness was pure exhaustion. The type that if one would sucome to it, would end up completely out, ms dead n appearance. Such a fate Kayla longed for night after night, but would never let go, allow herself to fall into its inviting grip. The fear of actual death stopping her each and every time. No matter how she longed for it, a larger part of her couldn't let go wanting to grasp on that fine line that told her waiting would bring her the greatest rewards. If waiting was all that was required, she'd done enough of it to last several lifetimes over.

The control finally faded. She completely let go. If death was to come to her this night then she would welcome it with open arms. No more hiding or running. No more being afraid. Neither had done her very good so far, after all every living thing needed to come to an end. Now it was her turn. Her head fell back against the back of the chair, lightly hitting the handlebar on the left side. She felt nothing more after that.

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Pain, nothing but pain. That was all she felt. She had never thought when you died, you could feel anything at all. Then was she dead? Perhaps not. Then was this some kind of dream? Maybe…. Again, if it were, why could she feel her pain? Perhaps because that was all she had known. But, other feelings attacked her senses making her think this wasn't a dream. Sounds and smells filttered in making her wonder where the hell was she?

She could feel a cold wind nipping at her exposed skin, and she thought she could smell salt water. Living as close to a beach as she did, the smell didn't surprise her in the slightest, nor was the dark of night. She didn't think she'd moved that far from where she'd been stopped. If anything she thought he had drug her back. In fact that was the last thing she remembered. She'd lost yet another argument and George of course, feeling she was being silly and playing a game, had taken control of her wheelchair and brought her home. If this was true, then why did she feel she was still outside? And, how was it that she felt closer to the ocean?

Placing one foot down it hadn't taken long for her to conclude that she was still on cement of some kind, but not the type she grown used to from the sidewalks and parking lot of the apartment complex in which she lived. It begged the question where was she? How had she gotten to be there? And, where was George?

Despite how he may have treated her during his druken epsodes, Kayla could never forget the good times they'd had. The times that drove her to keep going, and made her stick with him day in and day out. However, as of late they paled in comparison to the episodes as of late, the ones that drove her away. She had to clear her head, find somewhere to go out of the cold. Perhaps with a clear head she would be able to figure out where she was, how she had come to be there, and most importantly how to get home.

Home, a word she used lightly, but if it ment being warm and dry she'd take another night of endless arguments and tears. However, she started to wonder if she would ever see it again. Right now all she wanted was to stop feeling so cold and lost. Gripping the handrails of her wheelchair firmly, she begun to move forward, lifting them only to repeat the process to move her forward just the slightest bit. Suddenly it didn't matter she had no night vision. If she kept moving that was more then enough for her. As long as she kept right on moving, it would help her forget everything else around her.

She came to a sudden stop, her body jerking back in her wheelchair her arms being pulled by the unexpected stop, and her body being shoved back. Her knees sporting two new scrapes to add to the assortment of sores and other things that decorated her body. The sensation of pain she had been trying to ignore returning in full force. A pain she could do without. Carefully she reached forward to see what she'd run into. No doubt it could have been anything, but her first thought was a wall considering she couldn't tell if she was on a sidewalk or the middle of the street. But, she had been proven wrong when she discovered it was a post. She had seen them around before, but couldn't tell what they could have been blocking. No mater though. She would just keep right on moving.

"Miss are you alright?" a male voice cut Kayla from her thoughts. Her head jerked up and her hands gripped the handrails of her wheelchair her knuckles were starting to turn white. It didn't sound threatening, but she wasn't going to take her chances. After all she didn't know where she was. She could be anywhere, and she didn't want to risk someone trying to take advantage of her or her situation. After all she knew from experience that men in general would often try to take advantage of girls who dared to wonder out like this.

Hearing no reply, the man slowly approached but kept his distance. He'd seen her reaction, and wanted to be sure she would be alright before doing anything. Based on the fact she reacted at all, it could be assumed she could hear him. "Miss, I don't want to hurt you, but if you're in some kind of trouble, I can help." He wasn't sure if his words had the desired effect, but at least she hadn't tried to run.

Kayla remained frozen, the sound of her heart pounding in her ears seeming to be trying to drown out the sound of the man who was obviously trying to talk to her. Perhaps she should respond, keep him away from her if at all possible. "I'm fine, just got turned around." Her voice however seemed to betray her, because at least to her ears it sounded strained and forced. The fact she felt like she still had yet to get any actual sleep did not help the situation any. Apparently the man who'd found her picked up on it as well.

"Are you sure?" h pressed the issue a note of concern lacing his words. He couldn't see her clearly due to the low lighting and the dark of night, but she didn't look all that well at first glance. Perhaps it was the darkness, but the cold that caused her shivering was obvious. He wanted to help her, and could clearly see she needed it, but if she continued to refuse him there was little he could do.

"…so….cold….in…June…" Kayla muttered reality leaving her over-worked mind. To her this was some elaborate dream that felt so real to her. And, any minute she would wake up only to find out nothing had changed. She would be in her apartment with George not remembering the fine details of this very vivid dream.

The man blinked a confused expression gracing his features for only a moment before realization dawned on him. The girl in front of him was obviously unwell and would be unable to provide him with clear answers to his questions. Perhaps she wasn't well in the head, or simply was not well from exposure, but either way she required help in no shape to refuse it. However, he still approached with caution fear of being struck by this unstable person slowing his steps.

He eventually made it to her, surprised when she didn't run. But, upon closer inspection he could see why. Her hands, which had been gripping the handrails of her wheelchair now hung limply at her sides. Her head seemed to be tilted to one side, and if she hadn't been the wheelchair she probably wouldn't be sitting. Her random incoherent mutterings were the only sign that she had some kind of life and vocal ability in her. He didn't know what to do, but could not bring himself to dump her in some hospital and hope for the best.

Sure they could probably do a lot more for her, but somehow leaving her didn't sit right with him. No, he would have to see if he could get her to go on her own, that would be the only way he could leave her without constantly being worried if he did the right thing or not. With this thought in mind he took command of her wheelchair and took her to the only place he could think of—his place.

When she woke up, he didn't doubt she would be scared, but he would be there to help her through it. He just had to. Apparently she was running from someone or something otherwise she wouldn't be out on the docks in this shape like this. At least he didn't think so based on what little he could see. When he got her home and in better light he could see her a bit more clearly.

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Once at home he turned on the living room light and went into the closet and picked up an extra pillow and blanket for the couch. Setting them aside he carefully lifted the girl onto it gasping when he got a good look at her. Aside from being completely out from pure exhaustion, her body was littered with various markings. Most were bruises, some looking more freash then others. Her neck, sholder, arms and legs were covered. Her left foot looked slightly swollen and crushed and he could see dried blood in a few places. He could only wonder what her skin must look like under the shirt and shorts she wore, but he wasn't going to look. At least not now. He just wanted to get her lying down, the rest he could deal with when she woke up, if she woke up before he would have to return to work in the morning. He didn't know how he was going to do it, but he was going to take her with him.

For the first time in a long time, Kayla slept more then four hours during the night. Exhaustion had won out causing her to sleep despite the anxious feeling that gripped her like a vice. It would no doubt return, but any reprieve she had learned long ago was always better then none at all. And, quite frankly it was more than just a little welcomed.

As she opened her eyes some hours later, or perhaps minutes, she couldn't help but feel a little refreshed despite the fact she didn't even remember falling asleep. Though she tended to do so at the oddest times, so when she discovered herself in her clothes lying on a couch in the dark she wasn't the least bit surprised. Though as the reality sunk in she begun to realize it wasn't her couch, and she couldn't help but feel that feeling of panic start to bubble deep inside her trying to cloak her in its grip.

Where was she, and how had she gotten to be there? That feeling got stronger leaving her frozen in place. She was afraid to do anything, but she could sware she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Should she run? Or should she stay put? Where was her wheelchair? Without it she would have no choice but to stay put. She didn't know where her wheelchair was, and without it she wouldn't make it very far. So it was pointless in her opinion to try. In fact she didn't even know if she could walk. Best to find this out before attempting to move.

Swinging her legs off the couch she stood testing her weight on them. Aside from being rather stiff they appeared to be working alright. At least she wasn't on the floor… yet. Which she took as a good sign. Her feet were stiff, but she was still standing. Taking a deep breath she took a few steps forward to test her balance and the limited use of her legs. On a good day, she could walk, or rather limp short distances, so when she managed to crossed the room with relative ease she considered it to be a good day. However, she froze in her tracks nearly loosing the balance in her legs when the sound of movement from directly above her caught her attention. She apparently wasn't alone. And, why wouldn't she be? She had already had come to the conclusion she wasn't in her apartment, and obviously not even in her complex.

Quickly Kayla scrambled back to the safety of the couch she had been occupying. Her legs suddenly felt like led weights, and now wasn't the time to be taking chances. It was obvious she was in a stranger's home, which didn't help the situation any. Fear gripped her causing her body to freeze in place. What was happening? "You're up." A male voice stated coming down and turning on a light. "Are you okay?

Kayla could barely think much less speak. "More or less." She said after a while. Everything felt so real might as well talk.

"You had me worried there. Thought I was going to have to drop you off in a hospital." The voice said.

All the color drained from her face and Kayla suddenly felt very light-headed. "The only way I would ever willingly go to a hospital was if I knew I was sick and afraid I might die, or I was uncinious." She quipped pointing how much she hated the thought of hospitals in general.

The owner of the voice nodded not sure what to make of the woman sitting on his couch. She appeared to be a lot more open, but he didn't know anything about her. Except she apparently had some use of her legs, how much remained to be unknown to him at the time. Though he didn't know how to approach this woman not sure if she would bite his head off for the slightest little thing.

Kayla blinked trying to figure out what to make of the situation she found herself in. She didn't recognize the voice of the man talking to her, but she had already come to the conclusion she had no idea where she was, or who she found herself with. "Who are you?" She knew she sounded demanding, and perhaps it wasn't her best move, but she couldn't think of a way in which else to put it. If she was going to be in this person's home, she had the right to know to whom she was speaking.

"Harold Lowe, " the speaker spoke as the girl in front of him gave him the oddest look.

If it were possible, Kayla's face lost what remaining color it had her eyes growing wide in shock. Did she hear correctly? Now she knew where she heard the name, but was it the same man? Only one way to find out. "As in Titanic's Fifth officer?"

Harold nodded now his turn to look a bit taken aback by her suddon knowledge. "Yes, one in the same. Titanic sails in two days."

Suddenly a lot of the questions that buzzed in Kayla's head had become answered. She knew where she was, she had an idea of when, but all she needed now were the how and why. With the when and possibly where answered, she felt she could relax slightly from her rather tense position. A lot could easily be explained, though the how and why would have to wait. Logic told her this was a dream, but having the ability to physically feel puzzled her. Was it even possible to feel things in a dream? Or, had she died and been reborn in another time and place? That second thought had come out of no where leaving her to conclude she had been watching way too much Sailor Moon on youtube.

"Want to tell me how you ended up on the docks in the middle of the night?" Harold asked bringing up a subject Kayla hoped to avoid just a little longer.

"If I knew, I would have told you, or would have gone home. Truth is I wasn't even sure where I was. I thought at first I was near the beach." Kayla admitted deciding to be honest for a change. Not that she had anything to hide. Far from it, she defiantly had a lot she probably should be, but wasn't. She honestly couldn't remember. Perhaps she had allowed her sugar to get too low. That would explain the confusion… right…? Generally, but perhaps she blocked a lot out. She didn't even know at this point.

"You mean you don't remember why you were wondering down there?" Harold questioned not quite sure he believed her.

Kayla nodded. "yeah… everything is kind of a blank. I last remember fighting George off… then it was cold… in the middle of summer.

Harold couldn't help but think that perhaps this woman escaped from a hospital, or something. Though based on what he could see it would have to been some time ago. A majority of the markings he could see looked rather fresh, which meant whoever this "George" was, he must have done something to her recently. "Do you have any family or friends I could contact?"

Kayla had to think for a minute. According to history, Titanic sailed from Southhampton on April 10th 1912 nine years before her mother and eight before her father were even born. Which meant she had no friends or even siblings that existed yet. "No… I don't. Just… George, but…."

"…and, he was the one who hurt you?" Harold asked. He was trying to get her story straight, all before he left for work in a few short hours. He didn't know if he could take her with him, and he refused to turn her out on the street with nowhere to go, and no friends or family. He didn't want to accept that her only alternative was possibly returning to that man who had hurt her so deeply.

Kayla gave him a confused look not sure what to think at this point. In all honesty her anger for George's behaviors hadn't dissipated like it normally would have, and she found she didn't miss him nearly as much. But, could she really leave all of what she had ever known behind? Had she already? Though she still wanted to believe this was some bazaar dream and any moment now she would wake up back in her apartment either in bed or on the couch. However, she couldn't shake the feeling no matter how much she wanted this to be some strange dream world it wasn't. She readjusted herself so she was lying on the couch the strength to remain sitting while feeling like a bug under a microscope leaving her.

In all honesty, Harold didn't know what he was going to do with her. As she stretched out in front of him, he could clearly see just how serious it had become. The fear of letting her go, only to find out she had been killed ate at him. Mind set, he was determined to take her with him no matter what the costs. "Try and get a couple more hours sleep, we have an early start in store for us." Harold begun not sure how to break the news. ."You're going on the grandest ship in the world bound New York"


	2. A new reality?

Disclaimer standards apply. I don't own Titanic or the people who lived and died on her. This is pure fan fiction, and I mean no disrespect to history. I only own Kayla.

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A/n: I know the last chapter was rather long. I normally don't write that long of a chapter, but once and a while I will. Keep in mind I'm not going for complete historical acerory here. I'm just getting what I do know, and fictionalizing the rest. Its all in the fun of writing and to simply clear my mind.

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Warning: Standard warnings apply. See chapter one for full warning disclaimers.

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Chapter 2

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Kayla blinked now having a good idea where she was. His words seemed to echo in her ears as the gravity of her situation had hit her like a ton of bricks. Why had she ended up here, unless of course she was dreaming still? That had to be it. She couldn't possibly be sane, could she? No not possible.

Alone in the dark with her thoughts, Kayla could do nothing more but think. She had to figure something out. She just had to. As much as she would love to remain in this dream she couldn't possibly stay. Reality would drag her out of it eventually. It always did. However, she might as well enjoy it… right?

Attempting to take the sound advice given her, Kayla lie back on the couch under the blanket and closed her eyes. When she opened them again she expected to be back on her own couch, but not even she knew what to expect. Perhaps the dream would continue, but she couldn't be certain. All she did know, despite her attempts of extra sleep it would not come to her. Nothing she did worked, and her back felt quite stiff. Her body started to heat up, and she tossed off the blanket in an effort to cool it. However, sweat continued a sign of her rapidly declining blood sugar, a problem she discovered only a year prior. But, if this was a dream, how could she feel the symptoms?

It then occurred to her. She would have a quick end to this dream, if it really was one. The sweating would jerk her awake, forcing her to tend to her blood sugar. This meant she would know for certain if this was actually a dream or not. Waiting her only option.

Relaxing in the couch once more, Kayla lie there her eyes blinking every so often. The feeling she was still not home remained, so she decided instead to perform one more test. That is if she could. Well at least not in the dark. Forcing herself to her feet, she rummaged around for her "purse" In it she would probably, hopefully, find the answers she had been seaking. Chances of success seemed highly unlikely, but she had to try.

After a few minutes, Kayla found her wheelchair and the bag she used when she would go out. In it she placed a few things she thought she might need. Rummaging in the dark she found the one object she had come to count on to ensure her survival.. her blood sugar monitor. Grasping the device firmly she pulled it out of her bag and searched around in the dark for some kind of lamp to help her already damaged eyes see the display. She wouldn't have to test herself, she would just have to activate it. Finding a lamp she flicked on the light and hit a random button on the machine. The fimular tone sounded, and she smiled as she was able to clearly read the display clearly. This wasn't a dream after all. Then it had to be something out of sailor moon and she had to deal with her new reality Not exactly what she had been hoping for, but she could deal with it. She had to deal with it. There was no other choice but to.

Since her body had yet to cool itself, Kayla decided to go ahead and test her sugar. She had nothing to lose, and she probably wouldn't like the results, but she had to do it. It had become so routine she barely even thought about it, but with her world turned completely upside down she couldn't quite be sure of anything.

Forcing herself off the couch, she wondered around the house trying not to turn on two much light. After all the home owner, probably wanted to get as much sleep as possible. Though the thought of an early start terrified her. Oh well she would make up the sleep later, she always did. Now if she could just make it around this house without running into anything she was golden.

Finding the kitchen she flipped on the light and washed her hands before pricking her finger. She had gotten so wrapped up in her self-appointed task she didn't hear the movement from the upstairs, but even if she had she thought nothing of it really. She had been warned of an early start after all, and she assumed she must have been lying on that couch for a good two hours easily trying and failing to get anymore sleep. Of course this being no surprise to her. Nor was the number that flashed on the display. It had been low alright, much lower than she'd expected causing her to grimace at the display. She would have to bring it up, and fast.

However, as she ran her finger under the cold water, she felt that fimular anxious feeling welling up again. Someone had opened their home to her, but she was afraid to touch the food within in. On the one hand, it wasn't her home so she had no right, but she didn't exactly want to die… did she? Unless her over-stressed mind created the number on the display. That was possible? Right…? Or, maybe that's what she wanted to happen. Either way she didn't like it, nor did she know what to do. If this was her apartment she would simply make something to eat, but it wasn't.

Sighing she placed the meter and other parts of the kit in her protective case and headed for the living room to put the kit back in her bag. "Good morning… I see you're up."

Kayla felt like she was going to jump out of her skin. She was about halfway back to where she had found her wheelchair, when the homeowner, who she learned was a man calling himself Harold Lowe, had spoken scaring the girl completely out of her wits. Placing her hand against her racing heart, she took a long deep breath before trying to speak. "Never returned to sleep." She admitted trying to recover from the shock.

Harold nodded knowing today could prove to be interesting. Not only was he due at the dock, but his house guest appeared to have nothing but the clothes on her back, and appeared to need a bath. He also noticed she looked to be slightly flushed and sweating as well. "Are you okay? I can take you to the hospital if you want before I go to work."

"NO, no hospitals." Kayla replied quickly, maybe too quickly. "My blood sugar's just a little low. I'll be fine." She tried to sound assuring, but somehow she got the feeling she had failed miserably at the task. After all once she ate some breakfast she would be just fine. "I just need to eat to bring it back up."

Harold eyed the girl up and down, but decided to believe her. After all he knew very little about the medical profession aside from what little first aid he needed to know being out at sea. All ships he worked on, Titanic included usually had a doctor or someone with more medical knowledge then he. So who was he to argue. He wasn't about to force her to go to a doctor, because if she didn't want treatment nothing could be done for her. "Alright.." he finally agreed going into the kitchen and looking for something to fix for them, or if nothing else her to eat. Of course with him being gone at sea for the next two weeks, he only had enough for maybe the next day considering he wouldn't be spending much time at home after this.

Kayla crossed the remaining distince to her wheelchair placing the meter in her bag. As she pushed herself to an upright position, her knee gave out and she found herself on a one way trip to the ground. It had been so quick and fast Kayla herself had hardly noticed. She was far from fine, but still convinced she would make it through the day once she'd eaten and was clean and in dry cloths.

Forcing herself to her feet she stood on shaking legs and searched through her bag for clothes. Anything would do, but except for a few loose pair of undergarments, and a night shirt that no longer fit her, she had nothing to change into. This of course resulted in another curse from her. George had really left her with absolutely nothing. Well if nothing else she had at least one clean bra and a pair or two of underwear. As sad as that sounded it was something. She could get another day or two out of the shorts, but she couldn't do the same for the shirt. In the garment for more then one day and her skin would start to crawl. Not, that it hadn't already. She had already been in that outfit, since… that morning. But, none of that would matter if she didn't find some way to put something in her stomach.

By the time Harold had finished in the kitchen, Kayla had found her way back to the couch. Her legs refused to obey her commands making her life a living nightmare, and to think the day had only gotten started. Harold helped her into the kitchen wishing she would chose to seak medical help on her own. However, she still seemed to refuse. Who was he to argue. He didn't even know her. He just wished he knew what he was going to do with her.

He thought about taking her to work with him, or sending her out with some money to get some fresh clean clothes, but she didn't seem to know where she was so sending her out on her own would not have been the brightest of ideas. He could always leave her to find for herself at home too, but quickly banished that thought. He had to remind himself he didn't know her, so couldn't trust her fully. Could he?

Kayla silently ate the food in front of her and started to feel better once her blood sugar levels had risin. As she ate, she wondered what would happen next. Normally she would climb back into bed and sleep a majority of the day, but she wasn't home and this seemed to be a completely different world. Though Kayla wondered just how different. Could she get away with shorts, T-shirts, and long pants? Of course given where she had woken up, she had nothing to compare styles with. Sure anyone could look out the window and observe the various styles men and women wore, but not Kayla. Her blindness prevented her from having much luck in doing such things. "I'll be taking you with me to work, and see if I can get some time to take you shopping for some clean clothes." Harold's voice cut Kayla from her thoughts, the girl only nodding in responance.

Are you well enough to travel?" Harold found himself asking a few moments later. When he had first met her, he should have asked her then, but it didn't occour to him at the time. His main concern was getting her the help she needed.

"I can, but I don't like it generally." Kayla said after a few moments. She didn't have to ask why, she had already figured it out when she had heard the word "Titanic", but she was still very much confused. Her mind wanted to tell her that somehow she was in 1912, but part of her couldn't be completely certain.

Harold only nodded. He didn't seem all that convinced, but he cast his doubts aside wanting to earn her trust. The way she'd been acting suggested her health was in a fradgle state, but despite that she seemed to keep going as if nothing was wrong with her physically when it was obvious to anyone who saw her, she was ill. The markings on her body only serving as visual reminders. "The shower's upstairs if you want to use it." He had offered knowing she must really want a bath.

"I can't climb the stairs." Kayla said suddenly having reverted to her seat on the couch rummaging through what little belongings she managed to keep in her possession. She had been hoping she had managed to salvage at least one more good shirt, but so far hadn't found anything she'd dare walk out in public with in her current world, much less this one where it could easily be ninety-eight years before her time. Such a thought nearly made her feel sick inside. How could this have happened? That was an answer she hoped never to find.

As Kayla felt herself being lifted She wasn't sure what direction she wanted to take, weather she wanted to struggle or remain still. The later appeared the better option if she wanted to avoid more broken bones. One broken ankle several years ago had been more than enough. And, while her mind still tried to grasp what was happening to her, she didn't want to be testing theories. Plus a bath sounded good right then too.

Kayla was not used to having random people pick her up and carry her around. So needless to say she had clung to this one as if her life depended on it. Of course the last time she was this week, she was a small girl in her mother's arms fighting the physical therpyist. At that time she couldn't have been more then what… two? So much had changed since then, but here she was in a strange man's arms ascending a flight of stairs all because she admitted her legs would no longer allow her to climb the vile things.

Ever since she fell down two flights of stairs back in high school,, Kayla had been unable to get both legs working in sync with her to climb another flight. Granted when she first agreed to move in with George, she had spent about four months climbing stairs when he owned a second floor apartment. When his lease drew to a close, the two had moved to a first floor apartment in the exact same complex where she currently resigded… up until last night. Now, she couldn't be certain the complex even existed yet. That was a disturbing thought. One she did not care to entertain at present.

Finally alone in the bathroom, Kayla filled the tub and removed her sticky clothing tracing the angry red marks her bra tended to leave if she stayed in it for too long. Unlike some of her friends, Kayla could not ware a bra twenty-four-seven. It simply couldn't be done. If she wore the annoying undergarment, it would cut in her skin leaving imprints. Such was the case on her shoulders and back. In addition she also had to deal with the fact her skin stung still from the impact it had on the bed and wall only the night before from the fighting she'd been doing. Not only was this bath needed, but it would be extremely painful. Not something she wanted to add to the war of emotion and thought going on in her brain.

Kayla let out a low hiss of pain as her already injured body made contact with the hot bath water. Open wounds she didn't realize up until this moment existed made themselves known as the hot water washed over them. Normally she would sit and wait for the pain to subside before moving, but today didn't afford her any such luxury. What she wouldn't give for a few moments of simply nothing, but fait had other plans forcing Kayla to hurry her plans along.

After a quick bath and a quick inspection of her body, Kayla cleaned any cuts and scratches she could reach and treat. Forcing her clammy damp skin into a clean pair of underware and bra, she paused hearing a knock while searching for that shirt and shorts. "You alright in there?"

"Give me a minute." Kayla called back knowing that probably wasn't the right dialect to use, but she didn't care right about now. Sometimes she forgot where she was, making it rather difficult to remember to change her manner of speech to fit. Not that it mattered right about now, right?

Finishing up in the bathroom Kayla emerged clad in the exact same outfit she'd been waring since yesterday, but looking a lot better. Save for the amount of bandages that littered her body from the various scratches and cuts that had reopened in the bath. Some of them from her cat, Precious, others from her most recent battle with George. At least she didn't feel or smell like she had taken a bath in beer.

Kayla didn't even bother to yelp as she found herself once again lifted this time desending the same stairs she had just recently been taken up. Harold had placed her in her now-open wheelchair a sign the two would be leaving very shortly. To where Kayla did not know, but could only assume the docks if anything discussed the previous night was any indication. As she felt herself moving in her wheelchair, Harold having taking command of it, his words echoed in her head. ::"Titanic sails in two days."::

Ever since her recent re-discovery of James Cameron's blockbuster 1997 film, Kayla had taken up new interest in the history behind the ship. When she had first viewed the film at the tender age of twelve, she had gotten caught up in the love story in the film, as did many Americains. However, when she got older, and she discovered the world of fan fiction her interest had peeked, and she found she took great interest in the actual people and history of the event. It was only within the most recent year that interest started to narrow down to more spific people. Particularly Fifth Officer Harold Lowe, the only one to go back for survivors. Who, apparently Kayla happened to end up sharing the company of at this very moment, if what she had been thinking was actually correct.

She just needed to stop thinking. Such an act seemed to be dangerous to her health. Every time she stopped to think, she didn't like what her mind came up with. Most of it being depressing thoughts of her life in general, littered with the mass of confusion that had so recently become her life in the present. So lost in thought was she, she couldn't even feel the movement of the chair under her.

"Wait here a moment." Harold said, breaking Kayla from her thoughts. The brown-haired girl jumped and sighed as sounds started to filter in around her. She had gotten so wrapped up in her own thoughts, the entire world had ended up being blocked out, but not anymore as loud noise filtered in causing Kayla's head to want to hurt. Reality could sure suck, but she had to get her bearings.

Harold hated the idea of leaving Kayla alone, mostly due to the fact she could wonder off again the moment he was out of sight. It shouldn't matter weather she listened or not, not like she had any reason to stay. He paused and looked back before entering the wheelhouse, seeing that Kayla had remained right where he had left her. However, he couldn't guarantee she would be there once he came back, a chance worth taking. She didn't seem that unstable, but it wouldn't hurt to have her checked out… right?

Shaking his head his mind headed to his work, putting thoughts of Kayla aside for the moment. After all he had no real reason to worry. Based on what little he witnessed that morning, with the exception of climbing the stairs, Kayla was quite capable of fending for herself should the occasion come up. Which it might seeing as once they set sail, he would have very little off time to take care of himself much less a disabled woman. Though in the back of his mind he wondered what had drawn him to her. Though he highly doubted the fact she stood out like a sore thumb had much to do with it. Or, maybe it had everything to do with it…?

He had to stop his racing mind. Though he found that harder and harder to do as time progressed on. Kayla had this effect on him that he couldn't place. He had only known her less then twelve hours, yet she had sparked something in him. He tried to pass it off as attraction, but he couldn't be certain that was all it was.

With Harold busy, Kayla realized this was the perfect time to just think. She had been doing a lot of that as of late, but why did her mind want to think she was dreaming. Or, in this case having one long, very real, nightmare? Perhaps because if it wasn't, the reality would have been too much to take in. She would really be back in 1912, and appearing very unstable based on her dressing habbits. Of course no one had said anything seeing the bruises and bandages that littered nearly every inch of exposed skin. To the casual observer it looked as if Kayla had been outrunning from someone or something. No one stopping to ask. At least not until now.

"Lost miss?" An elderly gentleman inquired seeing as Kayla had been sitting on the boat deck staring off to space. Right away he realized she didn't belong, and thought to see if he could help her out.

Kayla wasn't sure how to answer that. What did she say? Well the truth would probably work. "No sir," she began remembering her manners. However, she would have to try to phrase her next statement properly. "I'm actually waiting on someone."

Apparently those had been the correct words, because the man in front of her had a warm smile. Kayla wouldn't admit it, but she had been relieved she didn't insult someone by saying the wrong thing. That could be a very dangerous mistake, because some men got away with abusing women depending on their social status. Of course not all men felt it proper to attack a woman, unless they were rich and treated women as property.

"Miss…" The elderly voice called trying to gain the attention of the young wheelchair bound woman in front of him. "Are you well?"

Kayla blinked in surprise. She had been doing a lot of spacing as of late, something she didn't normally do unless she had a lot on her mind and had no outlet. Which rang true today. Her suspicions of the year had been confirmed the moment other women had seen her, gossiping about her choice of attire. Some shaking their heads and thinking her nothing more than third-class filth. Not that she cared about what others thought a majority of the time.

"I'm sorry, I'm perfectly fine." Kayla responded snapping out of her thoughts once more. "I simply didn't realize you had been trying to speak to me."

::Why couldn't the dialect be the same:: Kayla thought to herself as she awaited a reaction to her words.

"Quite alright miss." The elderly gentlemen replied. He seemed to be taking the situation quite well considering Kayla's actions. Spacing out and being distracted were signs of serious mental illness, but he had more important matters to attend to, to worry about one girl who was probably the daughter of a reporter who had left her behind to caught up in covering the story of Titanic.

Reporters had been swarming all over the docks fallowing Titanic from its humble beganing three years prior, taking the most interest now that it would be setting sail in two days time. Ants would have better luck getting through with all the activity surrounding the docks for Titanic's madain voyage.

Harold approached the man and Kayla trying to hide the worry in his voice. "I'm sorry sir, she's with me. She hasn't caused you any trouble… has she?"

The man laughed lightly, "no, the young lady and I were just talking Mr. Lowe." He replied.

Harold nodded relieved that the conversation seemed to be going well, but that was short lived when he caught a look that he knew all to well. "Mr. Lowe, a word?" the man spoke what he had been thinking.

Harold nodded turning to Kayla."Excuse me again." He replied. "This should not take to long."

Kayla gave a mute nod. She had been sitting out here for a while, a little while longer wouldn't hurt… right? Of course it wouldn't. Only problem, her sugar was starting to drop.

…Just great…

Kayla thought about wondering off to find food, but decided against it. There were too many people around and she got disoriented easily. After all Harold would have to have a lunch break at some point… right? He would come back for her, and everything would be alright wouldn't it? As long as she told herself that Kayla was not the least bit anxious.

"Who is that girl?" The elderly man inquired once the two had reached a more private location. It was not uncommon for sailors to bring their families down to the docks and show them around, but usually those people were a little more dressed, and didn't look like they escaped a war zone.

Harold hadn't really thought of how to describe Kayla. He himself didn't know her all to well, but he did have to come up with a reply as to explain who she was. "A friend sir."

The elderly man nodded in confirmation. "Is she well? She did not seem so."

"I'm not certain sir; I'm going to take her to a doctor during lunch." Harold informed. His voice remained low and neutral, just in case by some reason, she could hear the conversation. There was little doubt, but Harold could not shake her reaction to the term in general, he had encountered when bring up the subject.

The man nodded. "I see." He replied. "See that you do."

"Yes, sir. Is that all?" Harold asked.

"Yes, you may go."

Harold saluted and took his leave returning to where he had left Kayla.

The next few hours had been filled with so much activity Kayla could barely think much less breathe. Harold had taken her to a local doctor wanting her checked out. His reason to ensure she was well enough to sail. The health inspections given at the docks for the third-class not being good enough in his opinion. Kayla hadn't really helped much seeing as she had done everything possible to make the doctor's job a living nightmare. The brown-haired generally hated doctors and hospital settings this being made worse only by the fact women had not yet been allowed to become doctors.

By the time the doctor had finished, he was rubbing his temples in an attempt to ward off the headache Kayla had caused. She had been quite forceful in her words, as well as mouthing off things she should not even know. However, since there was no way to test for half of what she said, save for the hypoglycemia, the doctor deemed her well enough to travel, instructing her to take it easy if she felt the slightest bit unwell. Based on what she had described in her list of illnesses, the girl should not be alive.

However, the girl was alive, and nearest the doctor could tell well, save for the hypoglycemia. He simply told her to keep doing what she was doing, sending her on her way. Kayla could not have been anymore happier. Of course she knew, if it was actually 1912, the technology to test for her various illnesses did not exist, so she need not worry about them. Naturally little could be done for them in present and she could only treat the symptoms. In short she had nothing that could be treated.

While Kayla's mental health was questionable, the doctor saw no reason to comit her. While her language skills suggested she was of Americain blood, the doctor along with everyone else assumed her to be of third-class status. Worst case, a woman trying to escape a marriage. Regardless of the reasons, only Kayla knew, and she wasn't talking. Well, not unless forced anyway. Not to just anyone.

Normally the chatter box when around the right person, Kayla had been a bit more reserved. She didn't know anyone, or anything that would put her at ease. She had spoken, but only when required and even then each word was spoken with a quiet reserved caution. Harold had listened carefully, and thanked the doctor as the two had left. Somehow, he knew this voyage of Titanic would be a voyage that no one would be forgetting anytime soon. Meeting Kayla seemed to have a lot to do with that as well.

Armed with the information the doctor had given him, Harold took Kayla to get some lunch before he was due back for the trails. Titanic would be sailing in less then two days and a lot went in preparing a ship for a voyage, especially one as important as this. He had to be at the top of his game which he had been until Kayla almost quite literally landed in his lap. Now, he found himself struggeling on what to do. Leaving her to fend for herself was out of the question, and getting her a ticket to sail, had been an equally difficult task. The titanic had been sold out for months, and unless a cancelation happened, there would be no where for her to sleep.

It would probably be easy to find her a third-class room, but again Harold had to consider Kayla's health. Based on how she acted around the doctor, the young officer doubted she would appricate stewards having the task of carrying her through the narrow passage ways and up and down the various flights of stairs in order to reach a majority of the third-class decks. Being as able bodied as he was, Harold himself found it difficult getting through some of the areas on the ship. Kayla was in a lot worse shape then himself therefore would have an even more difficult time. He would have to come up with something.

As they reached his home for the night, he sighed. What was he going to do? Maybe an answer would come to him in the morning. Until then he decided to make the best of it.


	3. Nightmares

Disclaimer standards apply. I don't own Titanic. I do own Kayla and the plot, no matter how twisted it might seem.

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A/n: This story may take me a while to write. I have not yet decided how the story will go, but It comes to me when I'm in certain moods. So updates to this will probably be slow in coming.

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Warning: Standard warnings apply. Please see chapter one for full warning disclaimers.

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Chapter 3

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Could she really do this? Could she really board a ship bound for New York, spend four days on board, before fighting for her life against the sinking of a great ocean liner, and the harsh cold of the North Atlantic? She knew the fate of the Titanic, and the thought alone made her positively ill. Based on What Harold had said, Tomorrow would be the ninth, and it would be less than twenty-four hours before departing from South Hampton. The fact she had never spent more than a few hours on a ship sure did not help the situation, and yet she would have no choice but to spend four days on one.

Kayla sat on the couch she had been using for a bed since the last night thoughts of the next five days on her mind. An anxious feeling had settled itself in her stomach, and she could feel the beganings of an attack well on its way. Her body had taken way to much into account, her nerves shot. She could not take much more of this, and yet this was only the start. The sad thing, with what had happened in the past twenty-four hours she did not feel the signs of the panic attack slowly gripping her body.

"Are you okay?" Harold asked one hand placed on Kayla's shoulder. Her heart rate and breathing had picked up, and silent tears seemed to spill from half open eyes. At first Harold assumed exhaustion had played a role in the strange symptoms, but then the shaking started prompting him to take action.

His voice had pulled Kayla from her somewhat tranced state of mind. Brown eyes spilling tears as her gaze traveled to him. "Just overwhelmed." She managed to say, the attack not quite effecting her vocal cords. At least not yet anyway. Give it enough time and those would be lost soon as well. The attack slowly progressed, Kayla powerless to stop it. She could only let it run its course.

"is there anything I can do for you?" Harold knelt in front of her now trying to get her to look him in the eye. Perhaps if she could focus, the attack would subside quicker. Of course he was at a loss of what to do counting on her to guide him. Only she could provide the answers to the mystery behind what was wrong.

Kayla shook her head. "n…n…n…no…t…t…th… the… att…a..at…attack… has …to…to… run…its… course…" Her ability to talk and make herself understood had finally left her. Broken words spoken with a tongue that felt like sand had taken over her speech capabilities. She shook with renewed frustration hearing the sound of her own voice. The tears that had gone unnoticed before started to fall harder and in larger drops. Kayla started to swat them away with the back of her hand feeling even worse for going into a panic attack. However, she couldn't control them so was used to their unexpected appearances.

Harold had no idea what to do. He dabbed at her eyes with a tissue helping to dry her tears. While he understood her being overwhelmed he could only wish he knew what to do. He had never met anyone like Kayla before, and each minute with her so far turned out to be an unexpected surprise. The doctor had confirmed only some of what he had been thinking, but he wasn't expecting emotional instability. He could always talk with Murdoch or Lightoller if anything else both men having been married for quite some time. Though he would have to take things minute by minute and see where they ended up for now.

Eventually the episode ended, Kayla's tears stopping of their own accord. She sniffed a few times seeming to simply get her breathing back under control, while she waited for the side effects to ware off. Exhaustion finally sat in and she started blinking as if to try and stay awake. "I'll see if I can't find something for you to sleep in." Harold offered as he stood and headed upstairs.

Kayla sat on her makeshift bed taking deep breaths to shake off the after effects of her panic attack. She honestly didn't know what had caused it, nor did she really know what happened during it. When they hit, they would happen unexpectedly and a majority of the time she didn't remember what exactly happened. As she started to come out of it, she felt a hand on her shoulder while someone had been trying to dry her tears. She couldn't recall anyone trying to do that for her, nor could she recall anyone even being around during an episode. Usually George would have been in bed for hours before an attack such this would occour, the one and only time he had been there he had been too focoused on driving to really do much of anything.

He had been sober at the time, and he had at first thought her low blood sugar had something to do with it. He had offered sweets to which she had declined, having finished a twenty ounce bottle of soda only minutes prior to the attack. She could also remember that being one of the worst she had ever had. Her speech had remained inactive for several hours afterward, making talking next to impossible. What came out was broken and it took George nearly an hour to figure out what she had been trying to say. She felt so guilty for that. At least this time, she could go to sleep hopefully and sleep off the after effects of this attack. Hopefully by morning she'd regained enough of her facatlies to where they would be some actual use. However, not even Kayla knew how she would feel when morning came. The pit in her stomach not making things any easier. Somehow she got the feeling she was in for one long night.

Harold came into the room with some old clothes. "Probably not what you're used to, but it has to be better then staying in those same clothes another night."

Kayla nodded. He had been right on that one. Her skin had started crowling that morning being forced to put those clothes back on. Despite having a chance to shower, sort of speak, it didn't change the fact that she had been in the same clothes for two days. She couldn't stand to go on waring the same thing forever, and she could care less where it came from. She nodded opening her mouth to speak, but decided against trying to say anything to difficult. "T-t- th- thank y-y-y-you."

Harold nodded figuring her speech hadn't come back. He could do nothing more than offer a smile. "Try to get some sleep. You should feel better in the morning." He replied keeping his voice calm. "I'll be upstairs if you need me. Good night."

Kayla gave a mute nod waiting until he had gotten upstairs before she changed into the clothes. Normally she didn't sleep in anything, but that was if she was at home. This wasn't home. She had to almost constantly remind herself of that. Taking a deep breath she put her hands to her face warding off the headache that wanted to form. Seeing as she had eaten not to long ago, the headache was no doubt due to the exhaustion that had overcome her due to her recent panic attack. She couldn't worry about those things, as she lie down under the covers in an attempt to get some actual sleep.

Kayla had half expected to be wide awake for several hours dozing here and there, like she did almost every night, but this was the second time sleep actually came to her. However, unlike the night before, this had been a restless sleep one full of nightmares. Things she hadn't thought of in years. Things she thought she had out run.

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Harold had found sleep hard to come. Normally completely worn from the day, a full night sleep was not exactly easy to come by. The ability to sleep through the night was rare, and often didn't happen as often as he would like. When it did, he generally slept through the night with little trouble. However, he sat on his bed thinking of the woman lying on his couch. The one who had been a complete mystery and poticinal trouble. Captain Smith had spotted her, and had obviously tried to have a conversation with her. While Harold was unaware of what words had been exchanged, it was obvious this very ill and confused woman had caused quite the stir. Taking her out had been difficult, but he dared not leave her to wonder the South Hampton streets alone. He couldn't , no, he dared not imagine what trouble she could get into.

Though he couldn't help but wonder what had brought her to him in the first place. She was lost, and very confused. The doctor theorized she may have hit her head, and temporally lost her memory, but had nothing else to offer the confused officer. Kayla for her part had yet to offer any information either choosing to keep silent about her problems. What information he did have was very little, and nothing to really go on. All he knew, she had no idea where she was, no clue how she ended up on the docts in the dead of night, she couldn't climb stairs and she was very quiet. He had managed to find out a brief medical history, but the doctor had discredited her story stating he had no way to test for any of the disorders she claimed to have. Advising her to take it easy. Not exactly anything he could go on. Rubbing his face, he sighed. He would have to sit down with her and get her to talk. Not exactly something he looked forward to.

With his mind set to talk to Kayla in the morning, Harold lie down attempting to get some sleep. If he didn't he wouldn't do anyone any good and the ship had another round of trails before its departure on the tenth. A lot had to be done, including several final press conferances. Lucky for him, those would be detaining captain Smith. He was lucky to escape that part at least. Though that didn't mean he wouldn't be kept busy doing other tasks that would require his attention. Now he had a posibably physcotic woman to deal with which hadn't been easy so far. All of that could wait until morning.

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Downstairs Kayla tossed in turn muttering words in her sleep. None of them really made any sense, and Kayla had been unaware she'd been speaking in her sleep. No one claimed she did, though George did say she'd snored a bit. Other than that she had no idea of anything going on, nor was she aware she'd started thrashing about.

**

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Nightmare**

_

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Kayla opened her eyes blinking the sleep from them. The sun was unusually bright streaming through the cracked blinds in her bedroom. She sat up only to be met with the cool metel safety rail of her bunk bed. She blinked a few more times tracing her hand across the railing climbing down to the filth-covered tile floor and the karpet she kept under her bed. Everything felt so real, but something didn't seem right. Had her entire life up to this moment have been some strange dream? Had she gotten a look at her future? So, why was she back home in her bedroom? In her parent's house? Wait was this even her bedroom?_

_ The bunkbeds were the same, and her laptop, modem phone and desk were all the same. The junk as well that littered her room was all the same. Everything seemed, as if she had never left. Dirty clothes in the hamper, clean cloths stroon on the bottom bunk of her bed. Her laptop on and open, ready to be used. Then what year was it?_

_ A loud shout from the living room over a phone bill confirmed the answer to the year. It was in the months between her first and second trip to the Conklin center. Her sister, Kathy, had discovered six hundred dollars of charges that Kayla had unknowingly accumulated using her cell phone. Remembering the conversation, she suddenly had the urge to protect the device she bought with her money however little that actually was. So why was she reliving this?_

_ The conversation had gone pretty much the same as it had the last time, only this time, Kathy had actually hit her and slammed her head against the wall. Not once, but several times causing her to cry out for her elder sibling to stop. It had been the first physical attack on her person, and it hadn't been the last. But, why relive it? And, somewhat differently? The real first time, Kayla had hit her head, but nothing more. This had been worse then the actual event. Was it a warning?_

_

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The sceane changed to her apartment where she had been living for thepast seven years. George had been drinking and Kayla had the bottle of beer in her hand dumping it down the drain. George faught her for it, going for the bottle. She had successfully emptyed it, but at the cost of her arm. George had actually broken it._

_ "This is all your fault. It's because of you I'm doing this." Those words had become like his mantra. He would use it on her every time he got drunk enough and she felt the need to literally pry the beer from his grip in order to save him from himself. He would always tell her he only drank a little bit. That he had everything under control, but someone who had everything under control didn't get so drunk that they actually harmed another human being. George had gone that far. He had become that dangerous to the point he had become a danger to not only himself, but others around him. Eve two years later, when he was arrested for D.U.I. nothing had changed. He'd stopped drinking for about six months had gone right back to it again._

_ Again, Kayla knew the images had been a slightly altered version of the actual event. The fight had been real, but in the real word, her arm had been spared, if only just. Again, was this some kind of warning telling her how bad things could have gone. Or, was it telling her how close things were to being dangerous or down right deadly?_

_

* * *

Again, Kayla found herself in her apartment, but something about this image seemed fimular. It was the exact same argument that drove her to run. The same one that had brought her here to Harold. George's words rung so clearly, words that had been repeated time and time again. However, this time Kayla had decided she had enough. After the third round of "You know it's too early to eat, you have to wait until I'm ready." Coming from George, and her reply of "You know I can't do that anymore." She had started packing everything she owned into bags. Sure the extra weight would slow her down, but at this point what choice did she have?_

_ Of course George had been hot on her tail trying to empty her bags as quickly as she packed them. Finally realizing if he started attacking her he could slow her down and make her stop. At least that was the antention anyway. It hadn't worked out, Kayla still managed to grab her wheelchair and start running. George hot on her heals not giving up on trying to get her to come back, to get her to come back to her senses. She felt herself being pushed and pulled in every direction possible, she felt her body growing cold, and she felt her body feel as if it was giving out on her. As if life had left it._

_ So what did it all mean? Was she dead like she previously thought? Or, was she dreaming within a dream? She still didn't know the answers. But, somehow she did know she was supposed to meet Harold. He had been nothing but nice to her despite the fact she acted like she belonged in a mental hospital._

**

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End nightmare**

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A loud thud caused Harold to snap his eyes wide open. He had just managed to drift to sleep when a loud crash from downstairs caused him to look around. Turning on the hall light, he peared down at Kayla, who had fallen off the couch and hit her head on the coffee table. Racing downstairs he shook the young woman in hopes she hadn't knocked herself unconscious. At first it didn't look like too much damage had been done, if only she would wake up. He could feel his insides freeze praying she was alright.

Finally Kayla's eyes fluttered open and her hand found its way to the place where she had hit her head. A low groan escaped her lips, while she blinked away the remains of the dream she had been having. Everything felt so real, so vivid, but it was quite clear she was still in the strange world with Harold. Her new reality she had begun to call it. While everything felt real enough she couldn't help but think part of her still had to be dreaming. Nothing else seemed to fit in her over-stressed mind. Though it still didn't ease any of the tentsions she felt either.

"Are you alright?" Harold asked concern lacing his tone. "Do I need to get the doctor?"

Again with the doctor. Why did he seem to think she required the services of a doctor? Then her head reminded her of a good reason as to why. Its throbbing from where she'd hit it in her nightmare-driven state. To any sane person that would be just cause for concern. "No. I think I'm alright. Just nightmares." Apparently, her panic-filled mind had recovered enough to grant her the ability to talk once more. Her slumber's may have been restless, but apparently enough time had passed allowing her to recover her speech capabilities. Having her vocal cords would prove quite useful in future.

"Are you sure? You hit it pretty hard." Harold said helping her to sit up on the couch taking the seat next to her. He turned on a nearby lamp, turning her to look at him. "Let me at least take a look."

"Its just a little sore." Kayla insisted trying to assure him she would be fine. She hadn't hit it that hard, or at least she didn't think so. The fact the throb remained dull and she didn't have an urge to vomit proved to be good signs.

"I don't see any blood, but you should try to stay awake for the rest of the night just in case." Harold advised. "Do you think you can do that?"

Kayla nodded. "I have done it before. Used to be completely turned around sometimes running on four hours sleep. I'm sure I can keep myself busy for a few hours." Which still rung true. If she woke up at all, chances were she would probably be stairing off to space counting dust particals or something else she did to pass the time. Though she was going to have a little bit more difficult time, seeing as she probably had no laptop, internet, and obviously cell service nearest she could tell. Of course she had found her cell phone, but did not remember checking to see if she had any service. Everything else screamed 1912, so cell phones wouldn't exist for several more years. In fact they didn't start to come out until the very late 1900's. Good thing she pre-loaded it with music she saved on her memory card.

"Do you need company?" Harold offered. "I'm used to very little sleep and long hours." He felt bad for even making the recommendation, but if she had done some damage she could slip away from him during the night and he didn't want to take that chance. So the least he could do was offer to suffer along with her.

"You should take full advantage of the ability to get a full night's sleep while you can." Kayla assured. "I'm used to this. I've got some things I can do to keep busy."

"Alright, but I'll keep my door open. If you need anything, just yell." Harold finally agreed. He didn't feel right leaving her alone, not want to lose her now, after investing so much time in trying to help her. Sure it had only been about a day, but the longer she stayed the less he felt he could let her go without knowing she would be alright.

Harold rose to return to his room for the remainder of the night when a slender hand rested on his wrist. He knew who it belong to and he returned to his previous sitting position. Kayla feeling much bolder then she had since her discovery reached out and gave the man beside her a hug. She couldn't understand why she had done so, but perhaps she craved some human contact other then being lifted and carried from room to room in order to do certain things that most people took for granted. Either that, or she felt so overwhelmed she launched herself at the first human being to come across her path to have showed her the slightest bit of kindness.

Whatever the reason, Kayla felt her short bold embrace slowly being returned, and she took comfort in knowing she hadn't pushed away or scolded like a small child who'd just got caught red-handed doing something they new to be wrong. She was relaxed slightly, taking in the moment, as short as it may have been. It was something she needed more than anything.

"I'll do my best to help you." Harold promised as he held Kayla in his arms. He had gotten way to involved for the brown-haired girl in his arms to be just another girl, just another person who would pass in and out of his life. When he met her a little more than twenty-four hours ago, he could probably say she was just another person that he did meat. However, after spending time with her Harold couldn't deny that she'd had an effect on him. Too early for actual feelings, but something pulled on him compelling him to want to go out of his way to if nothing else, get her back home to the states. However, once there… could he let her go? Go on with his life as if nothing had happened? Part of him said yes, while a larger part screamed no.

Kayla pulled back propping her back on the back of the couch. A ghost of a smile had graced her lips, the first sign of any real positive emotion she had shown. She had a lot going through her head, most of which she'd have to sort out on her own. Nightmares that tended to be worse then the actual events that spawned them. She had them before, sometimes before events occoured, but not this time not in this case. Unless the dreams she'd had were warning signs of things to come.

No that was silly. She really needed to stop reading into things as much. She had a way of doing that, and it proved to be more of a downfall more than anything else. Except this time, she was in a world not her own, and while logic told her the daemons of her past had yet to be born, the reality tended to force all rational thought to the back of her mind. If she could time travel back over ninty-eight years, then it was quite possible something more then rational logic was involved and Kayla's limited knowledge of the super natural may prove to be more of an asset then any logical theory she could come up with. Yet, not even she could wrap her mind around all the possible what if's. Or, rather it was more like did she want to. She had to find out how far back in time she was, and what if any aspects of the life and time she knew existed. A task that would not be easy.

"Feeling better?" Harold inquired breaking Kayla from her thoughts. She seemed to have zoned out, a blank expression lining her features. He wasn't sure what to expect, finding that she was having quite a few mood swings. And, he could never tell one minute from the next what to expect out of her. His voice seeming to snap her back into reality.

"I'm fine, I'll be fine. Just thinking." Kayla admitted wondering if it would be wise to tell this man, a somewhat stranger, her personal problems, fears, and more or less what was on her mind. Most of which she often kept from her best friends. She knew talking things out usually helped her, but in this case it may further the conclusion that she was not of her right mind.

When she had said she was feeling a little overwhelmed, that wasn't exactly a lie. The gravity of her situation coupled with the knowledge of historical facts made things a lot harder to digest. Though having had only one panic attack so far, proved she had handled the situation quite well. However, more would surely come if she didn't find some way to clear her mind and relese the emotions that got backed up in her head.

"Do you want to talk about what's on your mind?" Harold inquired concern lacing his tone. He knew something was wrong, something Kayla didn't want to talk about, which he could understand. However, she would have to speak up and let him know what she would allow him to know.

"I would not know how to start. Everything is quite, confusing and sounds crazy even in my own mind. All I do know, is I've caused you so much trouble and for that I am sorry." Kayla replied as honestly as she could. Her mind was still trying to sort things out in her own head as well as make sense of what was going on around her. Yet, trying to picture herself on board the doomed ocean liner just seemed to be something she didn't even want to consider a remote possibility, much less a reality she would have to face. Yet, if Harold's words were true, and the gentleman was who she thought him to be, that reality would not be that far off.

Harold nodded in understanding. "Its quite alright." He assured. "You haven't caused me any trouble. Though I'm interested to know the events that led you to the dock. Perhaps I could better help you."

Again, Kayla had hoped to avoid that subject just a bit longer, but sadly that was not to be. "Well, I can not give you great detail, but I can give you what I remember. Some of the events are still a blur even to me." She begun her tale deciding it in her best interest not to avoid it any longer. To hell what others may think. Perhaps her words may trigger something that could answer more of the questions buzzying in her head. If they even had answers to give. To this, Kayla could not be certain, but she had to try.

Kayla took a deep breath before speaking. Her heart pounding in her chest. Could she really do this? "It started as a typical day of the week for me. George, my….well I don't know what to call him really, I say partner usually, was at work and I was sleeping late as usual. I'd gotten turned around and I generally would sleep a majority of the day. He called me letting me know he was coming home. It was a typical day nothing really out of the ordinary really. It was not until a couple hours later when I had asked about dinner things got ugly. We got into another one of our fights. I'd gotten upset, and tried to get away even if it was for a few minutes. Living in a one-bed apartment this task was often not that easy. I started to pack a bag. To run with no plan of action or anything. I was upset and wasn't thinking where I was going to go. I hadn't really made any concrete decisions." Kayla paused to get her breath her emotions trying to get the better of her. Harold had been the only one she had really told about the fighting. Her best friend, Jenna, had overheard some of the conversations. Even listened when she complained and ranted about his endless drinking, but Kayla always assured her friend none of it had ever gotten physical. That he had never once struck her in anger. That of corse had been a lie, as he had struck her several times. "Well, George of course tried to stop me just like he has every time I've done this. We fought I got knocked around quite a bit, but eventually I overpowered him got in my wheelchair with what few belongings I could manage to pack, and ran. However, I hadn't gone far when he caught up to me, continuing the struggle we had started in the apartment only moments before. For a while I felt nothing, until I realized it was cold, dark and I could feel the pain. What I do not understand is how I had gone from an apartment in South Daytona Florida, in the year 2010, only to return to a dock, apparently in South Hampton in what I can only assume to be 1912."

Harold listened as she spoke finding parts of her tale to be a little far-fetched. However, portions of her words explained quite a bit. The markings, the blood and the apparent confusion a doctor assumed to be from a knock to the head. Yet, the rest didn't make any sense. Why did she only "assume" the year to be 1912? When the doctor had asked, she seemed more confident in her answer, or so he had been told. "What had you guess the year to be 1912?" Harold inquired not certain he'd like the answer he would receive.

"The mention of the Titanic." Kayla replied knowing by speaking she was treading on dangerous waters. "The voyage is one of the most talked about voyages in my time." She chose her words carefully, being certain not to use words that would lead to her knowledge of its fate. After all, until it happened, no one knew. Sure they knew the dangers traveling in the North Atlantic, But, no one thought to take it seriously. After all, as quoted by many. 'Ice is normal for this time of year.'

Harold nodded. While he couldn't be certain on what to believe, he did know their conversation had lasted well through the night and into the morning. The early morning light was just peaking through the city, and he knew neither would be getting anymore sleep. "Come on, why don't you take the bath first?" Harold offered lifting Kayla from her seat on the couch. Right now he could not be certain what to think, but he would continue to play things by ear.


	4. Tentsion

Disclaimer: I don't own Titanic. I only own Kayla and the plot. Don't sue thanks much

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A/n: I know I'm dragging the story out, but I have a method to my madness. This work of fiction, for those who know me is being used to get out some pretty strong emotions. Thus why updates have been slow in coming, and the chapters longer then what I normally write length-wise.

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Warning: standard warning disclaimers aply. Please see chapter one for full warning disclaimers. You have been warned.

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Chapter 4

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Kayla sighed to herself as she eased herself into another bath. She hadn't seen a calendar, but if she had to guess she would have to assume the 9th, somewhere in the early morning hours. After Hitting her head the night before, Kayla had not been allowed to go back to sleep, not that her overly-anxious mind would allow her to. But, all fears aside, Kayla allowed the hot water to calm her nervs and sooth aching muscles. Something she had been longing to do ever since she had arrived two nights prior, but until this moment hadn't found the time.

A momentary feeling of guilt washed over her, seeing as she had to constantly remind herself she was in someone else's home. They had been more than kind to her, and she did not feel she had a right to take advantage of that situation. A lot had to be done, and with just about twenty-four hours to go, a full night's sleep proved to be rather impossible for many. Being a night owl had proven to be valuable, but now with exhaustion starting to tickle her sences, Kayla was starting to doubt she would be able to stay awake all day as well, and given how things had been going as of late she doubted Harold would leave her alone in his home. He had no reason to trust her, and why should he? To him she was a complete stranger who nearly fell quite literally into his lap.

Taking her hands, she splashed the last bits of hot water over her face in order to wash it. She had been in longer then intended, but at the same time did not feel an urge to rush. Perhaps that was why she had taken time to allow the sting from her wounds to ebb away before making a move to do any actual washing.. However, it proved to be well worth it in the end seeing as she actually felt clean. Too bad she still required some clean clothes, the few items left to her would not do, and her previous outfit had already started to make her skin crawl.

"Kayla…" Harold knocked on the bathroom door checking up on s house guest. He had given her more time, knowing she probably needed it after a night like last night. After the nightmares had eased, and she had hit her head. Harold had stayed up with her for the past few hours talking with her in order to help keep her up. She had insisted she didn't need it, but he noticed she quite enjoyed the company. Even though she had never admitted it, those nightmares had shaken her up quite a bit. "Are you alright in there?"

Kayla drained the contents of the tub, the hot water completely gone. Slowly she eased herself out grabbing for the outfit she had left to slip into. "I'm alright." Kayla called trying to remember how to talk. She was having a hard time remembering not to use slang she had been used to, seeing as it could easily be confused as being rude or insulting. "I'll be out in a minute." She sighed, putting on her clothes hating the fact she had to walk on eggshells as the saying went around thease people if she wanted to fit in. Normally Kayla could care less about that sort of thing, but she also knew she wouldn't get very far if she insulted everyone that crossed her path.

"Take your time." Harold called as the bathroom door opened. Kayla stood in front of him clad in the same shirt and shorts combo she had been wearing for the past day in a half. Her hands were busy drying her damp hair with a towel as she stood before him.

"I'm sorry if I took—" Kayla started but Harold cut her off.

"No need to apologize. Come on and I'll help you get downstairs." Harold smiled placing a hand on Kayla's back. He had found carrying her bridle style up and down the stairs had proven to be the easiest method on both his back and her legs. And, while it had only been a couple of days, he couldn't help but find he didn't mind the closeness as she loosely wrapped her arms around him. However, the more he did the harder it would be to let go.

::Tomorrow once she's on board she should be able to fuction on her own a little easier. :: Harold told himself trying not to let himself get too deeply involved. But, how deep was too deep? Harold had hardly done much for her in the past day and a half, but it felt like it had been longer. As it was, he really hadn't done all that much except carry her up and down the stairs and taking her with him to the dock while he did his work. Nothing really, then why did he feel as if he had done a lot more?

Harold had gotten so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice that the woman in his arms had dozed off back to sleep. Part of him wondered if he should wake her, but in the end decided against it. She seemed fine, and hadn't appeared to have suffered any side-effects from the knock to the head she had taken the night before. After all the hit hadn't been that large and had not drawn any blood, so why was he so worried? Perhaps the fear of caring for someone only to have them die on him had caused his concern, or perhaps he was simply trying to justify his actions when he hadn't before. It was something to revisit for another time. He needed to deal with right now.

His gaze shifted to the woman in his arms and he decided not to disturb her and get ready for the day first, instead of taking her back downstairs and climbing the stairs again. He placed her in his bed and gathered a uniform to change into before retreating to the shower. Once he was clean and dry he could make one final trip down the stairs, and it couldn't hurt just to let her get some sleep. After all he couldn't be certain how much she may actually get over the next week, or how well she would handle the travel in general. She had admitted to him that she hadn't spent more then a few hours on a ship, and here she would be on one for an etire week. It would be quite a shock that he couldn't ease her into, the question was could she handle it?

Despite her ill-health Kayla appeared to be stronger then she looked. In the short time she had known Harold, the brown-haired had hardly asked for help. In fact she hadn't really. She had only admitted to not being able to climb the stairs, something she had no control over. Other than that, Kayla had made every effort to take care of herself. She seemed shy, but Harold had seen a stronger more determined side. He wondered if perhaps this side, he had only seen very little of, was part of her true personality, a part of her that had been forced into hiding by the man who had treated her so poorly. Even the doctor admitted that she didn't just sit around and let him hit her, that all wounds were from her defending herself. If possible, Harold would see to it, it never happened again. Though in the end it would totally be up to Kayla.

* * *

For Kayla the rest of the day seemed to pass buy in a blurr. After she woke up she found herself in her wheelchair with no memory of falling asleep. Then again the night before had been physically as well as emotionally draining. Having little to no memory of the events hadn't been as alarming. She assumed that Harold had probably moved her around a bit seeing as how he had given her the tub first. Though it hadn't mattered to her really. She did recall testing her sugar and having a small, but simple breakfast. However she also realized she may have to limit her use of test strips. She hadn't asked about going to a drug store, nor did she remember when the technology had been out. Also, was she truly completely in the past, or were there some elements from the time she called present? This was an answer she had yet to learn.

From her observations over the past couple of days she could not conclude enough to dispel any lingering doubts about her location. Naturally people had made comments, but Kayla had made it a point to ignore them. She knew a majority would comment simply because it was quite obvious she was in a wheelchair. That alone would stir up gossip. Most of which made by women who had hard-working husbands and more time on their hands. Something she would find regardless the year. Society could be that way that was for certain. Not that Kayla cared for such conversation. She generally withdrew into herself unless someone spoke to her directly, unless the subject happened to be something she had been passionaant about. Then keeping her silent was a near impossibility. However, at the moment her silence was welcomed. If only she could find out details without out-right asking.

When it came to her relationships with people in general, Kayla often didn't know where she stood. This rang especially true when it came to people who she didn't know. While Harold had been more than kind, that did not stop the storm of questions swimming in her head such as. Did he feel her insane like the doctor tried to claim? Did he find her trustworthy? If she were to pose such questions, would he reply honestly, or would he attempt to spare her feelings by saying what she wished to hear? In truth, she had no reason to trust him. Yet why had she? Why had she not run? It wasn't as if she hadn't the several opportunities. She could have anytime, but she remained. Just as she had remained loyal to George, she would do the same with Harold until it would be time for them to part company, which if Kayla understood correctly wouldn't occour until at least after they had landed in New York.

As her mind wondered about the man who, in a since had taken her in, it kept drawing her back to Titanic. The up-coming voyage would begain as early as noon tomorrow if History played out like it was supposed to, unless Kayla's appearance had caused some kind of set-back. Again that feeling boiled in the pit of her stomach. Would history play out like it had? Or, was this some alternat reality where she was living in a dream world that she had created simply by watching Titanic one too many times. If this was indeed, some form of reality alternet or otherwise, how much of it was actually honestly real? Would she wake up and realize her dream world was nothing more than a dream as her mind saught out some form of comfort.

Thoughts like this spun through her brain causing great distress. All attempts to hide it faild, showing her obvious pain. Though, just like with everything else Kayla tried to play it off as nothing. Claiming to being a bit overwhelmed by the up-coming trip, which Harold had believed. Of course not all of that was a lie. The anxiety of the up-coming trip had filtered into the war going on in her head, causing more stress and confusion. And, as the more time progressed the less she felt there was much she could do. All she could do was try and get through the day.

* * *

Kayla could not seem to clear her mind no matter how much she tried. All of her usual methods failed, and the questions buzzing in her head didn't help the situation. She quite honestly felt like a robot running on empty, and if possible that made her feel even worse. She was quite used to the Cerebral Palsy causing the constant weekness, but this felt far worse. Perhaps answers would help ease her mind, and she wouldn't have to play guessing games, because once she had thought she had figured something out, something new had been tossed into the works An example being that morning when Harold had called her by her first name with no hint of formality to his tone. If the year had been 1912 as she had first suspected, she did not expect him to be on a first-name basis so soon after meeting. From what she knew of the era, something of that nature was simply not done. She half expected him to be extremely formal for quite some time yet. Yet, on the other hand, she had not made it a point to correct him either.

Then there was the matter of her clothing. He had not said one word to her about how uncovered her shorts made her, but assumed what she wore was probably the only thing she owned. Which would have been true. Yet, the only comment concerning clothing came in the form of the obvious fact she would have to go shopping. Though how she planned to pay for it she hadn't a clue. In her purse she had located her check card, but the information on it remained the same. And, she did not bother to take her check book either. If she could feel the printing on her state I.D. card, she could safely assume nothing about it had changed either. Meaning she didn't fit in with the period. She should not even exist yet if her theory about the year had been correct. However, any clues proved to be inconclusive.

When she did eventually get a week's worth of clothes her suspicions leaned tward 1912 once again, simply because men and woman's roles were a bit more defined. Unlike in 2010, women dressed in basically whatever they wanted, and no one really cared. Here it was mostly skirts and dresses Kayla saw browsing through the wracks. If she hadn't been so desperate to change into something clean, she most likely would have complained. Though considering her situation she should not even be complaining in the first place. However, that didn't stop her from making quick work in making her selections. She hated to shop, and the fact she had been forced to do so on someone else's dime she found to be quite disturbing. She had brought her card, but did not want to use it if she didn't have to. At least the prices were reasonable and she hadn't over spent. At least in her mind anyway. Then again to Kayla anything was too expensive on someone else's dime.

One thing about Kayla was she wasn't your typical woman. Where most women loved to shop, cook, and gossip with one another, Kayla could care less about that. She had her moments where she talked constantly, but quite often she was quiet reserved and perfered to be curled up on a chair or something doing nothing or in a hot bath. Being tired quite often would make it difficult for her to do anything. Thus why she adopted a quiet reserved nature unless provoked otherwise.

After doing some much-needed, but very unwanted shopping, Kayla stopped to have lunch with the woman who had been with her helping her to shop. Since Harold had to work, he had asked the wife of one of his co-workers to take Kayla around and help her get something to wear. Kayla had no problem with that, but her mind quickly changed when the woman calling herself Ada, had started to trying to get to know her. The fashion questions came easy as well as answers to food and color. However, when the woman started to get a little more personal Kayla wasn't sure how to answer.

Sticking with the standard vague answers, Kayla had managed to buy herself time. But, eventually those would stop working. Sure those might continue for a few moments more, but eventually details would eventually be required. This had been the part of the conversation she had been dreading. However, she had been spared so far, the woman choosing not to pry. Thankfully for Kayla she had not yet been backed into a corner.

Once the meal had been completed, Ada took her on a short tour of SouthHampton, before returning to Harold's home to assist her with packing and preparing for the up-coming voyage. While the brown-haired woman had serious reservations about it, she could do nothing about them and realize that her overly-anxious mind often created situations such as this. However, around people who might as well be complete strangers, she hid her feelings and emotions as much as possible. And, so far this had worked. No one felt the urge to question her well-being leaving the wheelchair bound woman to her own devices.

* * *

To Kayla, the rest of the day continued to pass by her as if in a blurr. She felt like a robot just moving, talking or doing what ever else had been required of her at present. She didn't feel like herself, and the urge to wip out her cell phone and see if she had any form of reception had grown stronger. However, unless she was completely alone she dare not do so, less she try to explain how she had technology that wouldn't even be considered for a good eighty years or better. Yet, with the confusion srounding her, she had no idea what risks were worth taking. At least some things remained the same, even if they remained limited to her and the equipment on her.

"Hello there, did you two ladies have a good time?" Harold had inquired when Ada had brought Kayla by after they had finished some of the packing. He had wanted to check up on things and ensure Kayla was handling everything alright. After her small little meltdown, he had come to realize the young woman was quite unpredictable at times, and he couldn't be certain on what exactly he should think. Yet, he found her to be quite interesting and good company at the same time.

"Yes, quite so." Kayla replied honestly. While she detested shopping, it was a chore she had needed to do. While she did not quite favor the selection, she had no reason to complain. She had selected enough that would look fashionable enough, but offer the best source of comfort and functionality for her weather she was in her chair, or attempting to walk about. She hd alo mangedto buy for the season as well, which often could prove to be quite difficult regardless of the year due in large to her laundry list of health conditions. However, she had accomplished the task with minmual effort.

Harold nodded with a smile. "I take it you managed to find everything you needed without any problems?"

Kayla nodded allowing a faint smile to grace her features, "Yes, actually I did." She had replied honestly, but the days events had taken a tole on her body. Despite the smile on her face, the early signs of exhaustion had begun to show and she could not hide it. Harold naturally noticed this having seen first hand how quickly she became tired.

"I should be home soon, why don't you go on ahead of me and get some rest?" Harold suggested. "I can bring you home some supper unless you've already eaten recently." He added a hint of an undertone lacing his words. Kayla had explained about hypoglycemia, and how it worked. So without even realizing it, Harold had taken it upon himself to ensure she ate not only properally, but often enough to prevent her from getting sick.

"I ate a nice lunch; I should be fine for a bit." Kayla responded picking up on the tone. It had been used quite often with her in the past from people who wanted her to do something, but did not want to make it painfully obvious of their intentions. She had reacted accordingly while not faultering in her speech.

Harold didn't seem completely convinced, but could not prove weather or not she had been lying when she had responded. However, it did not appear to him that she had been. Of course he also had to remind himself that he hadn't known her that long and she may have started things off with a lie. However, he decided not to think that way, and take the time to get to know her as best he could before he became completely consumed with working. "Very well then I'll see you in a bit."

Kayla took a deep breath entering the home for the first time without someone constantly with her. It had been the first time she had been permitted to be alone since her "arrival" and while Ada offered to stay with her until Harold's return, she politely declined stating that all she planned to do was take a nap and she was perfectly capable of spending a few moments alone. At first Ada had begun to protest, until Kayla reminded her of her husband who would probably want to see her some before setting sail in the morning.

True to her word, Kayla parked her wheelchair nearest the couch she had been using as a bed stripping down to her under clothing, or rather what women considered to be underclothing. To her it was nothing more then a lite lounging outfit, perfect for napping in. And, until she lie down not even she realized how tired she become. No sooner had she lie completely down under the covers, she had fallen into a light doze.

The sound of a door opening and shutting caused Kayla to jump up quickly from the slumber she had been in. Out of instinct, she reached for her cell phone, but quickly remembered she never removed it from her bag after her discovery of the device. The smell of food tickled her senses, and she knew Harold had returned and had brought food as he had promised.

"Kayla?" Harold's voice called softly so as not to startle the woman if she had in fact fallen asleep like she claimed she would. "Its me, I've brought food. Are you awake?"

Kayla sat up from her sleeping position pushing away blankets in the process. She streached slightly her bones popping as she did so. She really didn't care about her appearance as her stomach demanded she do something to ease the ache she'd been feeling. Sweat had started to form a sure sign of shock. "I'm here." She had stood now at this point, approaching the kitchen carefully where Harold no doubt had placed the food.

"Have a nice nap?" Harold inquired his back to her as he pulled some dishes down to dish out their supper. "I'm sorry if I was a little late. I got tied up."

"Its quite alright." Kayla assured. "I slept the entire time most likely. She replied with a smile resisting the urge to "pull a Usagi" and dive into the food before Harold had separated it out. He had no doubt brought enough for them to share and it would be rude for her to simply dive right on in without allowing him to take what he wanted.

"I hope you're hungry." Harold replied, deviding up the food onto two plates. "I've brought plenty."

Kayla nodded quietly digging into her share eagerly. She wasn't all that hungry, but she had managed to polish off her plate. In a way she had promised to eat, and she would do her best to do so. The last thing she needed to do aside from making herself sick, was dealing with the knowledge she was making someone else worry about her. She hated to make people worry, but quite often she did so without even realizing it. And, with the way she'd been acting she couldn't blame anyone if they did. In fact she didn't feel quite like herself. However, Harold had unknowingly managed to break through her shell.

After Kayla polished off her plate she washed it before returning to her makeshift bed. As she approached it, a sick feeling rose in the pit of her stomach. Night had fallen once more and the anxious feeling resurfaced. She took a few deep breaths in hopes of calming her racing heart, but the tequine wasn't working as well as it usually did. Why did she have to know so much? Why did James Camorn's blockbuster film have to spark so much in her making her want to separate fact from fiction? If she didn't know what she did, would she be this anxious?

Harold approached Kayla wanting to talk to her some more before they both retired for the night. It had taken some doing, but he had managed to get her a ticket at the last minute. However, as he entered the living room he saw Kayla with her head in her hands taking a few sharp deep breaths. "Everything alright Kayla?" He knew he was starting to sound like a broken record, but he couldn't ignore her either.

Kayla couldn't help but notice that Harold had been using her first name quite a lot over the past twenty-four hours, but did not comment on it. After all his concern lie in her well-being, which she was extremely grateful for. She removed her hands from her face and offered up a week smile. Should she tell him what she knew? "I'm just nerves about tomorrow." She admitted honestly. She didn't dive into details, but she didn't honestly really have to. However, should she expand on it?

"It's completely understandable. I was a bit nervus the first time I went to sea. But, I assure you Titanic was designed with all of the latest safety measures in mind. And, I'll be there for you as well."

Kayla nodded, but she was still conflicted on what she should do. Tell him everything and get it off her mind? No, that would not be wise. "I'm safe to assume then you had managed to aquire a ticket for me?"

"That I did, there was a last-minute cancelation." Harold replied producing the ticket he'd acquired only hours before.

Kayla could feel the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach worsen at those words. So far events sounding the Titanic seemed to be happening according to history. She didn't bother asking for details honestly not wishing to have her suspicions confirmed. "Ah, I see." Was all she could think to reply. "At least you had been able to acquire a ticket in time."

Harold nodded and offered her a smile. "That I did." He replied. "I know its probably not anything like you're used too, but at least you have access to the lifts and a majority of the ship."

"You need not trouble yourself over me." Anywhere would have been fine." Kayla replied trying to sound polite about it, but inwardly grateful that she'd been given either a first or second-class ticket. She could not be certain to which she'd received, but decided she would find out at a later time. The social status remained unimportant to her, and people would behave based on their up-bringing and personality regardless of the year. It was then the realization dawned on her. Aside from the advancement in technology, and the laws becoming slightly more loose, the world hadn't changed all that much. The biggest thing was the rules about woman's rights and social class had become a bit more… defined.

"It's no trouble at all Kayla. I just want to ensure your voyage will be as comfortable as possible. After all it should take us at least a week to reach New York." Harold assured. "That's quite a long time to spend on a ship."

"Why, thank you." Kayla replied with a smile.

"Try and get some sleep." Harold advised. "You'll need to be at the dock early to beat the crowds."

"I shall do my best, but I can't make any promises." Kayla assured with a soft smile.

"Alright, see you in the morning then." With those words spoken, Harold retired to his room for the evening.

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Despite the fact that she was tired, Kayla didn't sleep a wink that night. She didn't think she would. Quite often when something big was about to take place she usually didn't. The previous night not being any exception. She used the time to properly check things out, and even checked her cell phone for missed calls or text messages. She had received a backlog of text messages, but nothing to recent. The fact she had no signal was of no surprise, but would have to check once she was out in the open a little more.

There could be many reasons why she couldn't get service. So she decided not to panic. That would not serve her well in this case. Instead she read through the back log of text messages, hoping by doing so she would tire, or suddenly receive service while she did so. Not that it would have mattered. Her friends however, were probably having a panic attack having not heard from her in days.

Morning on the other hand had come all too soon. The exhaustion Kayla felt was quite obvious by now, but little could be done about it. She hurried to get clean and dressed before Harold took her to the docks. Her nerves were shot, but she managed not to let it show. However, as she was being pushed up the gang way, she could not help but wonder how, or if she was going to get off.


	5. departure day blast from a past

Disclaimer standards apply, I don't own Titanic. I do own Kayla and the plot.

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A/n: Not much to say this time around, but you might get more from me considering the time of year it is.

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Warning: Standard warnings apply, please see chapter one for full warning disclaimers.

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Chapter 5

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She was actually here now, no turning back. As promised Harold had ensured Kayla had boarded early enough to beat the crowds. Titanic's madin voyage had been widely publicized just as she had come to expect. History had made such a big deal about it. She doubted that would have changed weather or not she was here or not. Today had proven to be everything she expected and more, even if she did sleep through most of it.

When she did board, she had been escorted to her room by Harold, where she unpacked everything making the room her own. After all it would be her room for the next four, or possibly seven days. Not even Kayla knew the answer, but she didn't feel the least bit anxious. Stressing over what could be would do little to resolve any problems that could arise from it. Instead she climbed into the bed to make up the sleep she didn't receive the night before due to the overwhelming anxiety that prevented her from relaxing. By morning it naturally eased, but it left her exhausted. A quick nap would resolve the issue, but the fact she seemed physically and emotionally exhausted concerned her. Of course she could have brought it on herself, which was always a possibility, but something to deal with after sleep.

Seeing how Kayla rarely traveled the first twenty four hours always appeared to be met with a seemingly unshakable fatigue. So the fact she spent a good majority of the morning sleeping did not alarm her. She had woken just in time for lunch, and seeing as the ship had just left port, the dining area of choice wouldn't be overly crowded yet giving Kayla ample opertunity to eat in pease and slowly adjust to the constant feeling of movement under her feet. She was fine when she stayed still, but that would be a near impossible task if she were to stay on board for four days. She would have to do more then just eat and sleep even if that was all she wanted to do. And, if she had it her way she would. However, doing so might raise some concerns and she did not desire to draw a lot of attention to herself. Being in a wheelchair and unescorted turned quite a few heads especially to those in first-class.

Some in second class had seen her, but a majority were too busy trying to be like the first-class to care. Aside from the idel chit-chat, many people kept to themselves or so it seemed. Of course it had only been a few hours, and many had their attentions else where to worry about one woman who stood out like a sore thumb. As the days passed people's aditude's could change, but for now they appeared to be keeping to themselves.

After lunch, Kayla took the air up on deck trying to adjust to moving while the "ground" moved under her. On her feet it was completely different from her wheelchair. The closest she'd gotten to what she felt at the moment was the "Small World" ride at Disney world, and even then that ride she'd been locked into place. In fact, until today if Kayla did any moving she was strapped down or had her wheels locked. The only close feeling she had to what she currently felt was when busses did a half-ass job of locking her down. However, she thought she was managing quite well. She had managed to maintain control of her wheelchair However, she did crash into the wall quite a few times. This of course causing people to stair at her, non pausing to offer her any aid.

Harold had been kept quite busy ever since he brought Kayla on board the ship. He had been permitted to escort her to her state room and show her where she could find anything she might require, but after that had to go on duty and work with his fellow officers. The first day being chaotic. Of course, the first day out was always met with a certain level of chaos, this no different from any other departure day. The only difference, were the number of passengers and amount of media attention Titanic received being the "largest floating object ever made by the hand of man" or so several papers read. Another myth accoited with her had been "unsinkable" which was a bit of a lie, anything that could float could sink.

Not long after leaving port, before Titanic could completely escape her birth, a smaller ship had nearly tested this theory. The S.S. New York, had been ripped from her morings as Titanic passed due to the size of the massive ship. The smaller ship didn't stand a chance. However, due to some quick thinking by those in the wheel house the disaster had been avoided, if only by a few precious inches. However, it did delay the ship for about an hour while the issue had been resolved.

The incident made Harold want to check up on Kayla. Images of her expression over the past two days kept replaying in his head. He couldn't help but get the feeling she was with holding information, and while she may have her reasons he just had to know what she knew. However, he could not, no would not force the information out of her. He held off deciding to wait until the end of his shift to see how she had faired so far. Given how exhausted he guessed her to be, he assumed she would use the time to try and gain back some of her lost sleep. If this was in fact the case he did not wish to disturb her. Yet, he just had this feeling something was not quite right, and that "accident" was a sign of things to come.

He wasn't the only one to show signs of slight apprehension concerning this voyage. Since it had been so widely publicized, many others expressed concerns. The phrase 'bad luck' had been tossed around, and some others felt a overwhelming sense of dread. Even one man, and his family chose last minute not to sail, though his reasons remained unknown. It was due to the cancelation Kayla had been secured a spot. Harold had seen to it she had been given the space, giving her more access to the ship and places she might need. Though the decision did stir up quite the gossip. However, despite the attention it drew, Kayla didn't seem to care. As long as she could have to access to what she needed she was perfectly fine.

After his first shift, before retiring for a nap in-between shifts, Harold decided to check on Kayla and ensure she was doing well so far. He knew he shouldn't be so worried, after Kayla had proven she could be strong-willed and independent, but at the same time he had been taking care of her for the past two days so took it upon himself to keep an eye on her and make certain the voyage was as comfortable for as possible. After she had admitted to having never been on board a ship for more then a few hours, he couldn't help but wonder how she would handle moving and sleeping on one.

As he made his way down to her state room, he spotted a figure leaning against the rail seemingly gazing at the ocean. At first Harold passed it off as just a random woman looking out to sea, but upon closer inspection it hadn't taken him long to conclude it was in fact Kayla. The sea air blew her hair about her face causing strands to block her line of sight for a few moments before moving away of their own accord.

"Kayla, how are you fairing so far?" Harold inquired approaching slowly. Normally he would have been speaking in a more formal tone, but for some reason he had started things off on a first-name basis, to which she seemed to favor over the more formal title or constant use of her last name. He had slipped the second evening she spent with him, but she had made no move to crrect him, so he continued until such time she no longer responded in favor of the informal tones.

Kayla turned so she locked gazes with the speaker that was slowly approaching her. When she heard him close enough to her she opened her mouth to speak, "I'm doing well so far. Crashed into a couple walls, but I'll eventually adjust to the ship. Its almost like riding in the R.V. only a lot more quiet."

Harold rose an eyebrow at the reference she had made, another sign that there may be more to Kayla then met the eye. However, out in the open was not the place to confront her on her odd behavior. He would simply have to make a mental note to question her about it later. Perhaps, the reference was merely linked to something she mentioned two nights before after she had hit her head. "Just take it easy and don't be afraid to ask for help should you feel you need it." He simply advised.

Kayla nodded offering a smile. "I'll be sure to remember that. Thank you for your concerns, but please don't let me keep you from doing your job." While Kayla didn't mind the concern, and felt grateful for everything Harold had done for her thus far, she did not wish to risk his job. While she knew little about rules, she knew that should the captain get the wrong idea about their relationship Harold could loose his job. And, despite how she may first appear she did not wish to risk anyone's job.

"I'm actually on break. I was just about to turn in and get some shut eye between shifts. I just wanted to make sure you were enjoying your voyage so far." Harold responded honestly returning the smile even though she probably couldn't see it "I know it can be a bit overwhelming and you seemed a bit anxious."

"I still am, but that's just because a lot has happened to me in such a short time. It's a bit more then I'm used too. Once my mind and body have a chance to settle down, I'll be fine. Exhausted for a bit, but otherwise fine." Kayla admitted, "You need not concern yourself so much."

Harold couldn't help but smile a bit wider at her words. She sure had proven to be one unique woman, from her sometimes odd behaviors, to her odd choice in attire. Even though she sported a skirt and short sleeved shirt, they were still showing a bit more leg then she should. However he understood her not wishing for her skirts to trip her should she try to walk especially if the object she attempted to walk on moved under her feet. "I'll be around if you need me, just let me know. Care for an escort back to your state room before I retire for a while?"

To say she wasn't used to that kind of treatment would have been an understatement. However, until she got her barings it was an offer that she simply could not refuse. "That would be great." The words flew from her mouth before she knew what she had said. Inwardly she could have scolded herself for such a stupid slip up, but Harold didn't appear offended. He simply took command of her wheelchair and lead the way back to her state room.

As she reached her room, she bid him good-bye while he held the door for her to get in. Until she actually reached it she had not really taken much notice of the exhaustion that had crept up on her. A nap before dinner seemed to be what the doctor ordered. Of course she really hadn't a reason to pay that much attention. She half expected to be slightly tired for the remainder of the voyage especially that very first night out. With the door shut and re-locked, Kayla took it upon herself and stripped down to her birthday suit and climb into bed.

The horn that announced dinner woke Kayla some hours later leaving her a bit dazed in confused. Before the ship left port, Harold had explained some of the things she might come to expect while on board such as the meals being announced. However, she would have to get used to the sound. By the third or forth time she should fair quite well.

Shaking the mental cobwebs from her mind she forced herself out of bed and climbed into the tub. She hadn't decided weather or not she would order her supper and dine in her state room, or if she would dine in the dining hall along with other passengers. The shy part of her wanted to hide away for the entirety of the voyage, but the more adventurous part wanted to at least be seen. It would not do to hide out for the duration of the trip and give Harold another reason to worry, but why did she care how he felt? After all she barely knew him. She didn't owe him anything. However, no matter who they were she hated for people to worry.

As she climbed out of the bath, her mind started to work over time. She had to try and remember what dining on a ship might entail especially since she was not only in first-class, but apparently possibly in the past. Though formal dining rules hadn't changed over the years, only the people and fashions. Her fingers grazed across her t-shirt and shorts she'd met Harold in, and she shook her head. When she had gone shopping she didn't buy anything too formal. She wasn't normally one of those women who cared for such extremes, but she had failed to remember she might require at least one perhaps two formal outfits. Sighing she selected a shirt and skirt combo that she thought suitable enough. However, she could not make a decision on where she should dine.

Once dressed Kayla made her way out on deck to take in the air. Perhaps the sea air would help her decide, but apparently her body had other plans. Her blood sugar had dropped, limiting the amount of time she had to locate food forcing her to make herself known to those in the first-class dining room. As soon as she entered the gossip and stairs suddenly made themselves known, and she sighed in mild frustration. Didn't people have other things to do with their time? Well, she would deffently not remain for all eleven corses. She simply needed one perhaps two depending on weather the first brought up her sugar levels enough. Seeing as how she had been good about doing so, then the likelihood of her eating a large amount of food was slim.

She kept to herself finding she only really needed the first corse to fill up. However, she couldn't be certain she could find food in the middle of the night she decided to stick around for a couple more courses. However, as the third arrived she was ready to lie down again. Given the hour, some women had already retired for the night. However, Kayla wasn't quite ready to do so just yet. Despite the year, and the fact she was out at sea, her sleep schedule hadn't quite adapted, and the extra sleep she had acquired throughout the day made it difficult to relax for the enterity of the night. However, she did notice the ship slowing to a stop.

::So far as I know history is playing out just like it did before.:: she thought to herself as she passed some passengers who were boarding form Cherbourg. History was unclear with about some things, but many well-known names appeared. Including Margret Brown who history would later call the unsinkable Molly Brown.

Deciding to take the reprieve while she had it, Kayla headed in the direction of her state room. However, she never reached it. A man who she had all about forgotten, appeared blocking her path. She tried to politely ask him to move, but did not take long for her to realize he was deaf. She couldn't tell if this was a blast from her past or not, but still it seemed like it when the man continued advance on her despite her efforts in telling him' no'. She had done everything but scream.

Harold had just come out to go on watch when he caught motion from the corner of his eye. From his viewpoint and the dark of night he couldn't quite see exact details, but the sound of skin hitting skin was unmistakable. His doubts of who was involved were erased, when Kayla did decide to start screaming at the man who found her attempts to pass amusing.

It certainly didn't take long for Harold to reach Kayla and the man who had her pinned against a hallway wall. Her hands appeared to be free as she was trying to push him off of her while used his body to pin her in place. Her screams appeared muffled as he used them as an opertunity to stick his tongue down her throat.

She feel her lungs burn as she started to gulp precious oxygen. Just as quickly as the advances began they quit. A hand touched a rapidly pounding chest as she tried to reduce her heart rate and breathing. Her stalker was no longer on her, and an instant relief washed over her. Her eyes were wide, and she caught everything her stalker was saying. Her savior also attempted to get her attention, but Kayla was too busy simply trying to breathe to consider anything else.

"Kayla, are you alright?" Harold kept calling to the apparently stunned brown-haired woman he'd been caring for, for the past now three days. He had her attacker restrained, while the awaited the master-at-arms.

"I'm fine now, or I will be." Kayla spoke in-between rappid breaths as they slowed to a more normal rate. "He just doesn't know how to take no for an answer."

"What happened?" Harold hated to ask, but he had to do his job first. Many possibilities entered his mind, none of which were all that plesent concepts.

"That's Arron, he's deaf and a man who has stalked me for years. He's generally a friendly person, but doesn't understand when a person doesn't want to be messed with. It usually takes a blow to the head from a blunt object to actually get through his thick skull. However, I didn't wish to be 'friendly' with him in return." Kayla explained her voice back to normal. For someone who was being raped, she seemed unusually calm. The fact she knew him probably had a lot to do with it as well. Though if Harold had to venture a guess the shock hadn't set in quite yet.

When the master-at-arms arrived, Harold handed Arron over to him to have him detained for attempted rape. His attention turned to Kayla, who looked alright aside from the fact she was slightly shaken. Perhaps the events were finally starting to sink in, and Harold for his part didn't know what to do. As far as it looked right now he was late for a shift, and he would have to file a report. "You do know I have to file a report on this."

Kayla gave Harold a mute nod of understanding. "I'll go lie down it's been a long day." She replied knowing she wasn't quite off the hook. She would have to give her statement, which she didn't quite wish to do, but it had to be done never the less. The cool April air blew in through the open halway causing goose bumps to form on her exposed skin. "I know, you need to know what happened, but can we please go inside?"

"I'll get some paper and a pen and meet you in your sitting room." Harold replied, going against protocol. He knew what people might think if he was seen inside a passenger's room, but again he wished to put Kayla's well-being over the rules.

Kayla gave a mute nod and return to her state room where she put on the heat to thaw her partly frozen and still somewhat shaking body. A long hot bath was also in order, but she would have to wait until Harold had finished with his questions, but was she ready to relive it? Sure, Arron may not have done much compared to what he could have done, but it was what could have been that scared her so. Would he start to stalk her again? That she was confident would be met with a big fat 'no'. Not after this attempt on her.

Sighing she slipped out of her shirt, leaving an under shirt on. No need to over heat while she was waiting to hear from Harold. This conversation had to take place despite the fact she wished it didn't. With a sigh she smiled trying to regain her composure. As she placed the shirt on her bed she heard a knock at the door and answered it as quickly as she possibly could. "Hey," she said without thinking. Stepping aside she moved to allow Harold to enter.

By now Harold had gotten used to how Kayla spoke, and the strange words that sometimes slipped from her lips. Even more so he got used to her waring short sleeves and exposing more leg then she probably should. He watched her a moment, looking for anything new that may have appeared from the events that occurred out on deck. "I know you probably don't want to answer me, but do you want to tell me what that was all about?"

Kayla took a seat in a nearby chair rinning her hands in her lap. "I knew him… personally." She began her gaze locked on her hands which were twisting her skirt. "His name is Arron, and for a number of years he stalked me. After a while I moved around a bit, and thought that he'd lost track of me, but apparently I'm easily found."

Harold wrote down what she was saying his gaze never leaving hers. He waited knowing that talking about what happened must have been difficult. While he didn't want to preasure her or send her into another attack, he needed to find out what happened. However, he did allow her to take her time.

"From the first day we met he had always had some kind of attraction to me. I'm not certain if I led him on, or he thought I was an easy target." Kayla continued her tail hot tears stinging the back of her eyes. She blinked a few spilling free despite her attempts to hold them at bay. "As soon as I realized what his goal was, I told him no, but he continued to advance telling me he loved me. As if saying those words would suddenly make it okay."

"But, he never got the hint?" Harold asked, but already knew the answer.

Kayla nodded. "exactly." She looked up then using the back of her hand to dry her tears. "He would laugh, and I even resorted to hitting him with a blunt object every time I would see him, but nothing I did was ever good enough." "I was starting to think it never would, but… like I said I moved and we lost track of one another. He would write to me, but I never replied back."

Harold nodded pausing in his notes to put a hand on Kayla's shoulder. He hated to see her like this, but he had done everything he could. Arron had been detained and would remain so for the remainder of the voyage. "And, tonight?"

"He saw me, and apparently his "feelings" for me had never changed. He tried to…. Well he tried…" Kayla started to cry harder unable to say what had happened, even though they both knew what that was. "He wanted to…."

"Its alright, you don't have to say it." Harold put his pad and pen down pulling Kayla into another hug in order to calm her down. "Just breathe…" he instructed rubbing circles in her back to help her breathe a little easier. "He can't hurt you. As long as you're on bored, and he'll be arrested once we land in New York."

Kayla nodded as she took a few deep breaths to calm down. She had almost gone into another panic attack, but due to Harold's quick thinking a full blown attack had easily been prevented. It was times like this she wished people like him were around more often. She offered him a soft smile, a sign he could finish up his notes.

"Just try and get some rest." Harold informed brushing some bangs out of Kayla's face. "If you don't want to come to breakfast, you always have the option to order in if you want." Harold offered with a polite smile. "If you want, I'll come check on you tomorrow."

Kayla shook her head. "You've done more then enough. I don't want to get you in trouble. I know you're probably late and—"

"This is more important, you are more important. Others saw what happened, they know I went to handle it." Harold cut her off. "Now, get some sleep alright?"

Kayla gave a soft smile, but nodded. "Good night then." With those words spoken, Kayla showed Harold out before resuming her previous task of preparing herself a bath. Despite the exhaustion she fet she realized sleep would not come easy. However, she did need that hot bath to keep her in check and help her to relax if at all possible. With everything that had happened, Kayla felt a little drained, but at the same time could not force herself to relax.

After her bath she climbed in-between the sheets trying to calm her racing mind. She had finally come to the conclusion that she was actually in the year 1912, and all doubts about her location had finally eased, but seeing a blast from her past sort of speaking, caused any lingering doubts to resurface once more. Furthermore, who else would she encounter? Who would have a personal grudge they wished to settle? She could name quite a few, a majority of whom she'd met during her high school years, but regardless of how they met, things had ended on a bad note. And, not knowing them nearly as well, would they let it go? Some, probably others… like Juan and Jason, not so much. If anything she learned about their pasts was any indication. Some of the things she learned, didn't ease her mind in the slightest. But, what scared her the most was when she woke up where and when would she be?

She thought she had come to accept she was in a new reality, but seeing Arron, and have him attack her caused her to rethink things. She was not stupid, she knew what he wanted, and like many times before refused to give it to him. This had lead this time to getting arrested and detained, but how many more like him would appear from her past? Would George be one of them? Or, did he realize his actions and drinking cause him to lose her possibly forever? Eventually, sleep did find Kayla, and she fell seamlessly into it with a lot more ease then she thought possible. When she did wake up, if she did wake up, she would deal with whatever the day brought.

When Harold finally returned to take over for his fellow officer, he knew something was up. This was far more then him simply over sleeping, something he had been known to do. However, what could it be? No, wait he had a pretty good idea.

"you're late, its about time." Forth Officer Boxil complained. He wasn't to thrilled to have to stay, but until his relief arrived he couldn't leave. "I hope you aren't planning to run off again."

"no sir," Harold replied honestly. "There was in incident I had to see to, but it's been resolved."

"It had better." The older officer complained taking his leave and headed for his quarters now that Harold had returned.

Harold hoped that would be the end of it, but deep down he had a feeling it wouldn't be. No doubt he had been seen leaving Kayla's state room. News like that could spread and he could lose his job. So far it seemed to be safe, but no doubt by morning the story might be completely different. Everyone knew some of what happened with Kayla, but it was what they didn't know and the thoughts that could come from his actions that had him on edge. Filing his report, which the captain would see in the morning, he returned to his post keeping his gaze locked on the sea in front of him.

However, his thoughts remained elsewhere. He didn't know what it was about Kayla, but he had been drawn to her from the first moment he had seen her. At first he thought she would be with him for one night, but she ended up staying for two. On top of that she would be with him for an entire week while they sailed to new York. He had done a good job keeping his personal and private lives separate so far, but after what had happened, he found that to be a near impossible task. Especially now that he had been seen with her more then once. While their interactions had been brief, no more then a few minutes, that was more then enough time for people to start to ask questions. However, he could not bring himself to avoid her completely either. However, now was not the time to dwell on such matters. He had a shift to complete, but he had a feeling he had a long night in front of him.


End file.
